


Dark Embrace

by Agent_Hellcat



Category: Jeremy Renner - Fandom, Penn (AtS) - Fandom
Genre: Biting, Erotic Dreams, F/M, Fingering in a car, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vampires, handjobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 80,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Hellcat/pseuds/Agent_Hellcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara meets Penn at a party and he turns her world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> This story is independent of the timeline and events of “Somnambulist”. That is the only episode of Angel I’ve ever watched, so my take on Penn may not match up with the vampires of the Angel/Buffy world.

Sara was having a stressful workweek, and when her friend Trish invited her to a Friday night party at her place, her first impulse had been to say no. What she really wanted to do was go straight home and chill in front of the TV with some microwave popcorn. But Trish had been nagging Sara to get out more, and she described the party as a simple, quiet evening with just a few friends. This was definitely Sara’s type of event. The more she thought about it, the more tempting it sounded. So Sara called her at lunchtime on Friday and told her she was coming to the party. Trish was delighted.

She should have known that the reality would not match her friend’s pretty description. As soon as she got off the elevator Sara heard the music coming from Trish’s apartment. A little nervously she headed down the hall and came to a stop outside Trish’s door. The music was louder now and she could hear the buzz of so many voices, punctuated with the occasional shrill laugh. She hesitated, already feeling overwhelmed. 

Stay or go? The microwave popcorn was looking pretty good right now. But hell, she had promised to come, and Trish had sounded so happy that she was coming. If she left now, Sara knew she was in for another “You need to get out more” lecture, and she wasn’t in the mood for that. 

Okay, how about this for a compromise? She would stay for a little while, then plead fatigue and head home. Decision made, she opened the door. 

The rush of noise was overpowering. Sara waded into the apartment, looking around nervously. She felt as if she had jumped into the ocean without a life jacket. It was too warm in here and little beads of sweat popped out on her hairline. 

Immediately anxiety rose up in her and began to mess with her head. Was she dressed all right? She had come straight from work and was wearing just a simple white blouse with a knee-length light blue skirt and flats. Everyone else was casually dressed. Was she out of place? Should she have gone home and changed first? Her anxiety level was rising steadily. 

People seemed to take up every available inch of floor space, standing around in little groups, laughing and talking, some with bottles of beer in hand. There had to be at least fifty people here, and at first glimpse Sara didn’t see any familiar faces. This was not surprising. Trish and her boyfriend Matt were natural born extroverts, and between their jobs and their various social clubs they had a vast circle of friends. Sara had met some of them, but never felt comfortable with them. They were from different social and professional worlds, and she always felt that they didn’t have much to talk about.

Both Matt and Trish came from wealthy families, and they liked to spend money on their friends. They loved to throw parties, and they could be counted on to host one about every six weeks or so. (Trish always joked that it took that long just to recover between parties.) Trish’s parties always followed the same pattern. She started out by inviting a handful of people, but the guest list would invariably expand when she began to feel guilty about leaving someone out. Before she knew it, the apartment would be jam-packed with people, just as it was tonight.

Sara had always envied her friend’s ease with people. She herself was the exact opposite. She had always felt out of place at big gatherings. Even in high school she tended to hold herself back unless she really felt comfortable with the people around her. Once she reached that comfort level, however, she could laugh and joke around and have fun. 

Seeing the absence of familiar faces made Sara wonder if she’d be able to reach her comfort level tonight. Could she find someone to talk to? Should she just walk up to someone and introduce herself? Everyone looked comfortable in their little groups – would they want to make room for a new person?  
“Hey!” Trish appeared in front of her, grinning. “So glad you could make it, hon.”

“Quite a mob scene,” she said, managing a smile. “I seem to recall you saying you were just having a few friends over.”

“Oh yeah, I did. And I really intended for it to be just a small group. But once I started inviting people, it just kind of got out of control. You ought to know me and my parties by now, hon.” Trish laughed. 

“Are Val and Kim here?” It would be less intimidating to navigate these social waters if she could stick with familiar people, especially Val and Kim who, like Trish, thrived in these situations. 

“Val and her sister had tickets to a show, and Kim’s boyfriend is taking her to that new Italian place on Seventh Street. But there are some really cool people here, so grab a beer and mingle.”

“I’ll do that.” Damn. She was on her own. Trish would be busy playing hostess, and her admonition to “mingle” seemed to indicate that she didn’t want Sara tagging along with her all night. 

Trish wagged a finger at her. “I mean it, hon. Mingle! You never go out, you need this. How are you ever going to get laid if you don’t even try to meet someone?”

“Come on, Trish. Give me a break, okay? I just got here.” Sara looked away, as a flush began to creep up her neck. Trish meant well, but sometimes she had no regard for boundaries. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. Just … try to have a good time, okay? I worry about you. There’s more to life than work, you know. The thing with Greg ended months ago. Time for a fresh start. You’re only young once.”

Sara winced. Why did Trish have to bring up Greg? He was the last person she wanted to think about tonight. She took a deep breath, suppressed her irritation, and managed to say, “You’re right. I’ll mingle and I’ll have a good time. I promise.” She forced a smile as she began to calculate how long she would have to stay before she could make a graceful exit. An hour? Two?

“That’s the spirit!” Trish gave her a hug and then moved away from her, looking closely at her face. She must not have liked what she saw, because she said, “Are you really okay, Sara? I know you don’t like crowds. You’re not mad at me, are you? I really did intend to have just a small event tonight.”

She really seemed anxious for Sara to have a good time. Sara smiled again, a more genuine one this time. “No, hon. I’m not mad at you. I’m just a little tired. But I’m not going to mope in the corner all night. I promise.”

“Good. Meeting new people can be fun, you know. Just take small steps. Start by introducing yourself to one new person, and talk to them.” She squeezed Sara’s arm. “You always have a good time when it’s just us girls. You have so much to offer people, Sara. Just let them see the fun side of you that we know and love.”

Sara’s eyes began to mist up a little. “Hey, things are getting a little serious,” she said. “I’d better get some alcohol into me, quick.”

“You do that. I believe you know the way to the fridge.” Trish hugged her again. “Well, I gotta go play hostess. Have fun! And think about what I said. Just try meeting one new person. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Trish wandered off into the throng of partygoers. As Sara watched her go she considered her friend’s advice. It did make sense. Instead of letting herself be intimidated by the throng of people, why not try to narrow her focus down to just one person? Maybe she could find someone who was having the same kinds of social difficulties. The odds were good that she wasn’t the only shy person here.

Her mood somewhat improved, Sara decided to grab a cold beer. She cut through the crowd and managed to make her way to Trish’s kitchen. Even in here people were hanging around. She had to push through a knot of people just to get to the fridge. Once she opened it she spied a six-pack of Yuengling and smiled. Trish knew what she liked. She grabbed a bottle, opened it and moved out of the kitchen, finding an unoccupied spot in the hallway. With a relieved sigh she leaned against the wall and took several long cool swallows. She closed her eyes and imagined the workweek sliding off her like a coat.

“Some party, huh?”

The male voice startled her out of her reverie and she gasped slightly as her eyes snapped open and she looked at the speaker who stood before her. A man in a dark red tee shirt stood about two feet from her. She noticed right away how nicely the shirt clung to his form, outlining his torso while leaving his muscular arms bare. He stood about two inches higher than her five-eight height. His blond hair was cut short and spiky and his blond goatee was neatly trimmed. But what she noticed most of all were his blue eyes, fixing on her like lasers from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

“Uh, yeah, quite a party.” She felt a little disoriented under that intense gaze. His eyes weren’t really blue, she realized. More like a mix of blue and green. Fascinating, really. She couldn’t look away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I just saw you come in and I thought I’d like to know you better.”

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sara.” She extended her hand, suddenly excited. Trish’s advice was already bearing fruit, it seemed.

“Penn,” he said. “Nice to meet you too.” He shook her hand, all the time holding her gaze. His grip was firm and quite strong.

“How do you know Trish?” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at one of her parties.”

Penn shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve been here. I’m a friend of one of her friends.”

Sara nodded. “Trish’s parties tend to be like that.”

“So you know her pretty well, then.”

“Oh yes. We’ve been friends since college. We met in Introduction to European History.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

“Ugh. It was anything but. Professor Grant. The most boring man in the world. You know how they say some teachers make history come alive? Well, this guy couldn’t make history come alive if he had a defibrillator.”

Penn laughed. “That bad, huh?”

Sara chuckled and nodded. “Oh, yeah, it was a struggle just to stay awake. We figured out pretty quickly that working together was better than trying to hack it alone. We studied together and wrote our papers together. Spent time at the library together. Somehow we managed to pass the class. And we bonded. We’ve been friends ever since. When I moved here, she was the first person I looked up.” She took another swallow of beer, a little surprised at how talkative she had become. Be careful, she reminded herself. Don’t monopolize the conversation.

Aloud she said, “So how about you? Do you live around here?”

“Nah, I live downtown. You know, where all the hippie bohemian artsy types hang out.”

“Is that your line of work? Bohemian artsy stuff?” 

“Yeah, I guess you could say I’m an artist. Not starving, just struggling.”

“An artist. Wow, that’s great. I’ve always admired creative people.”

“I’ve always enjoyed the arts. I guess it’s because I like beautiful things.” He looked directly at her when he said this and she felt her stomach flutter a little. She didn’t know how to respond, so she took another sip of beer.

“Well,” he said. “You know what I do. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a legal secretary.” Sara shrugged. “It’s kind of boring, but it pays my bills. I don’t want to do it for the long term. I’m thinking about studying to be a paralegal.” 

She was a little surprised to hear those words come out of her mouth. She had toyed with the idea, had even talked to one of the paralegals in the building about the requirements, but this was the first time she had ever spoken of it as something she might actually undertake. She hadn’t even mentioned it to Trish. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said. “You strike me as the kind of person who can do anything she puts her mind to.” 

“Thank you,” she said. “That’s such a nice thing to say.”

“Just calling it as I see it. I get a sense about people sometimes.” He smiled at her and she felt her stomach flutter again. 

It occurred to her that she and Penn were having a nice conversation and she was carrying on her part of it without any of the stress that usually accompanied her attempts to talk to new people. It also occurred to her that she was attracted to him. When those amazing blue-green eyes fixed on hers, she felt as if she could fall into them. 

She wondered what it would feel like to have those strong arms wrapped around her, to have his lips pressed against hers. These thoughts made her shiver. She had spent the last six months in a kind of post-breakup daze, trying not to think about Greg and the emotional pain he had inflicted upon her. Hell, she was trying not to think about the fact that men even existed. The fact that she was now enjoying herself with this interesting new man suggested that she was finally beginning to put that mess behind her. Maybe Penn was just what she needed to purge Greg from her system once and for all.

“Hello? Sara? You home?” A hand waved in front of her face. 

She blinked and refocused her attention. Penn was looking at her, a bemused smile on his face.

“You okay?” he said. “You were like a million miles away.”

She laughed. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I was just thinking that I’m really glad I came here tonight.”

He nodded and his smile turned into a grin. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

Her smile faded as she became aware of her bladder. “You know what, I think I need to, uh, make a visit…”

“To the little girls’ room?” he said.

“Yes. Will you excuse me?”

“Sure. I’ll take care of that.” He gestured at her empty beer bottle. 

“Thanks.” She handed it to him. When had she finished it? “Be right back.”

“I’ll be here.”

She walked down the hall, turned right and stopped dead. Five people stood in line at the bathroom door. Oh shit. She had no choice but to wait. As she took her place at the end of the line she hoped that Penn really would be there when she was done. She couldn’t help worrying that some other unattached chick would snatch him up. Someone cuter, with bigger boobs and a shorter skirt. 

Stop it, she snapped at herself. The worry retreated, but only partially.

The line seemed to move with the speed of a glacier, and after what seemed like an hour Sara had finally made it to the front. As soon as the woman ahead of her left the bathroom she bolted inside. She went about her business as quickly as possible then took a few seconds to check herself in the mirror. Satisfactory. But she was wearing an anxious expression that did not become her. Her worry that Penn might abandon her came roaring back.

Sara tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, forced herself to take a few deep breaths, then tried on a smile. It felt natural enough. She turned for the door and opened it.

And saw Penn standing against the wall outside the bathroom. “Hey, there you are,” he said. “Did you fall in?”

She couldn’t help giggling as she came out to meet him. “I haven’t heard that one since the fifth grade. I’m sorry I took so long. There was a line for the bathroom.”

“You were gone so long, I got a little worried. I thought you’d ditched me.” He really seemed relieved to see her.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” she said. It seemed prudent not to mention that she had also worried that he might ditch her while she was gone. 

He smiled. “Good.” He reached out and took her hand. She thrilled as his long fingers touched hers. “Say, it’s kind of jammed here. I’m not really fond of crowds. Want to bail? Maybe we could find a bar or someplace a little more comfortable, and just hang out. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds great.” She managed to sound calm but inside she was dancing and whooping. She hadn’t lost him after all! The night was going to continue! And who knew where it might end? 

“Great. Let’s go, then.”

“Okay, sure. Just let me say goodbye to Trish and then I’m all yours.” The words escaped her before she was even aware of them.

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a smile that made her belly tighten. “Really? All mine?” His voice had suddenly gone low and throaty. 

She swallowed hard. “Uh…just a figure of speech.” Her face felt hot.

He nodded, still smiling. “Sure. Figure of speech.” The smile said it was much more than that. 

For a moment or two she forgot how to breathe. Then she came back to herself and cleared her throat. “Well. Let’s find Trish and then we’ll take off.” 

“Lead the way.” He still held her hand as she started down the hall and headed for the living room. 

She found Trish sitting on the couch talking to another woman Sara had never met before. Trish saw her out of the corner of her eye, made a “just one second” gesture to the woman, and stood up.

“Sara. I see you took my advice.” She took in their linked hands, and then smiled up at Sara. It was almost a smirk. “You made a new friend.”

“It was good advice,” Sara admitted. “I did meet one new person, and here he is. Trish, this is Penn. Penn, Trish.”

Trish nodded. She looked him over as if he were a new car Sara had just bought. Penn took her scrutiny calmly, a polite smile on his lips. “Hi there. Glad you could come.” 

“Thank you. I’m glad I came.” He squeezed Sara’s hand and a little thrill danced up her spine.

She turned to Sara. Her smile seemed to say that she approved. “So I take it you’re leaving us for the evening?” She wore a knowing look that made Sara flush a little bit.

“Yeah, we’re going to go have a drink someplace.”

“Well then, don’t let me keep you. Have fun, you two. I’ll call you later this weekend, Sara.”

“Great. Talk to you then. Say hi to Matt for me.” She was glad Trish didn’t want to chat further. She’d be more than happy to share details during the promised phone call. But right now she wanted to get out of here and find a more private place to be with Penn.

Out in the hallway it was a little cooler and Sara felt relieved to be away from the crowded apartment. As they headed toward the elevator she asked, “So where do you want to go?”

“I noticed a bar on the next block. I think it was called Eddie’s, or something like that.”

“Oh sure, Eddie’s. I’ve been in there. Kind of a quiet, neighborhood type of place. The hipsters haven’t discovered it yet.”

“Oh, that’s good. I see enough of them in my neighborhood.”

The elevator arrived and he gestured for her to go in first. She took up a position against the rear of the car. He moved in next to her, and her pulse quickened as his shoulder brushed against her body. It felt so good to be close to him. 

There was something so different about him. It was almost as if he gave off a subtle electric current that attracted her irresistibly. She wanted to touch him, to be near him. It was something she had never felt for a man before. Greg had certainly never ignited such feelings in her. 

They reached ground level and exited the elevator, then walked out of the building into the cool evening air. Sara took a deep breath that seemed to fill her entire body all the way down to her toes. She had only drunk one beer, yet she felt a light buzz. Her earlier fatigue and stress had vanished. She felt refreshed and recharged by this evening’s events, and by the feeling that it wasn’t over yet. Penn took her hand again and she felt a surge of excitement at the possibilities that lay before her. 

At the back of her mind she was beginning to consider taking him back to her place. When she looked at him she could imagine what it would be like to go to bed with him, to have him teach her all the things she wanted to learn. His strong hand covering hers made her wonder what his touch would feel like on other areas of her body. She liked thinking about these things.

The walk to Eddie’s only took a few minutes. They didn’t talk on the way. Both seemed content to be alone with their thoughts for the time being. Sara wondered if Penn’s thoughts were traveling on the same track as hers.

From the outside Eddie’s looked like an unassuming place. It didn’t have flashing neon or garish signs promising exotic drink specials. It looked exactly like a neighborhood bar, just the kind of place where Sara felt most comfortable. He could not have suggested a better place. Penn opened the door for her and she entered the cool, dimly lit space. The sounds of Tom Petty’s “Refugee” greeted them and she felt her spirits rise even higher. It was one of her favorite songs.

Penn turned toward her. “What’ll you have?”

She thought about it for a second. She didn’t want to drink any more alcohol. Whatever happened tonight, she wanted her head to be clear. “I’ll have a club soda.”

“Okay. Why don’t you get us a booth and I’ll take care of the drinks.”

“Sure.” Penn went for the bar and she wandered into the back, where there were a few booths and tables. About half of them were occupied. She found an empty booth and slid into a seat that allowed her a view of the whole room. From where she sat she could see Penn at the bar. Her eyes caressed the lines of his taut muscles under the red shirt. It was easy to imagine her fingers tracing those same lines. What a lovely thought. She smiled as a shiver ran down her spine. 

Penn got the drinks and turned toward the rear of the bar. She gave him a little wave to let him know where she was and he nodded in acknowledgment and strolled toward the booth. She liked his quick, confident stride.

“Okay, here we go,” he said when he arrived. “Club soda for you.” He put a tall, ice-filled glass before her. “And some liquid courage for me.” He put down a rocks glass on the table across from her. It was contained an amber-colored liquid that she guessed was Scotch.

“Liquid courage?” she said as he sat down. “You don’t need liquid courage to talk to me, Penn. I don’t bite.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he said, chuckling.

They were silent for a few moments. She took a sip of the fizzy soda, relishing the hint of lime. The ice cubes tinkled as she set the glass down again. He watched her the whole time.

Finally he said, “Okay, I just have to say something. If I’m out of line, tell me. But…you were at that party solo. I find it hard to believe that you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Ah, well.” She toyed with the lime wedge that perched on the rim of her glass, not looking at him. “You’re not out of line. I had a boyfriend. We broke up a few months ago.” She hoped he wouldn’t pursue it further.

“Really.” He looked at her intently. She could feel the weight of his stare on her and glanced up. He was studying her face as if memorizing it. “Well, if he’s the one who dumped you, all I can say is he’s an idiot.”

“That’s nice of you to say.” Her face felt a little warm.

“I mean it. I tend to say what’s on my mind, Sara. Look, I know we only just met, but like I said, I get a sense about people. And my sense is that you are special and you deserve better.”

“Thank you.” Emotion swelled inside her and for a moment she thought she might cry. She grabbed another sip of her drink to calm herself and try to dissolve the lump that had suddenly sprung up in her throat. 

When she could trust herself to speak, she said, “He did dump me. And you’re right: he is an idiot. And he doesn’t deserve any more of our time tonight.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” He raised his glass. She lifted hers and they clinked glasses. 

From there the conversation flowed rather easily. Sara didn’t know how much time passed as the two of them sat talking in the bar. Everything around them faded into the background. Later she wouldn’t be able to recall exactly what they had talked about, only that his smooth voice had charmed her utterly, sweeping over her and wrapping around her like a warm blanket that she didn’t want to leave. Once or twice he touched her arm, innocently enough, but the contact made her shiver. It left her wanting more. He smirked at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

She could feel that they were coming to a decision point. It was getting late. Soon they would either go back to her place or part ways. The prudent thing to do would be to give Penn her number and then go home. But she had spent so many lonely nights at home lately. She didn’t want this night to end. And the more time she spent with Penn, the more she wanted to spend with him.

Besides, what if she gave him her number and he never called? He’d be gone forever, and she’d always wonder what might have been if she had invited him home. She had a mental picture of herself sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring, and dying a little inside the longer it didn’t. Kicking herself for the missed opportunity. Kicking herself for giving another man the power to play with her emotions and then reject her.

Penn broke into her thoughts. “Hey, can I get you another drink?”

She looked down at her glass. It was empty except for melting ice cubes. “Yes, please.”

“Okay. Be right back.” He slid out of the booth with their empty glasses and once again she had the pleasure of watching him walk to the bar. His black jeans seemed to be painted on, accentuating the sweet curve of his ass. She wondered if he wore any underwear, and after another look decided that he probably didn’t. Her face flushed a little, and her thoughts returned to the prospect of inviting him home. That was one way to find out for sure.

Unfortunately her safe, prudent side was also making itself known – what she always thought of as Mother’s Voice. Every time she began to think about starting a sexual relationship with a man, that inner voice popped up to tell her that men were only interested in one thing, and once they got it they would toss her aside like a used tissue. Her mother had drilled these warnings into her for as long as she could remember, and hearing them had always filled Sara with a mix of anxiety and resentment. Now they were a part of her, and sometimes it seemed that she would never be free of them. 

Mother’s Voice was weighing in now, telling her that a nice girl did not invite a man home, especially when she had just met him. Sara didn’t want to hear it right now. In fact, Sara was getting sick and tired of the voice. She wanted to tell it to shut up, something she would never dare to say to her actual mother.

Damn it, she was always doing the safe thing, the prudent thing, the Nice Girl thing. Why not be a little daring for once?

Penn returned to the booth and placed a glass on the table before her. She thanked him but he didn’t respond. He stood next to her, one hand on the back of the booth, looking down at her. She couldn’t really read the expression on his face.

Suddenly his free hand was lightly touching her chin and gently tilting her head up. He leaned down and his lips brushed hers. She took in a sharp breath and met his kiss. Her nerve endings sizzled. He made no attempt to put his tongue in her mouth, just kept up that gentle brushing of his lips with hers until she thought she might go mad.

At last the kiss broke and he straightened up, smiling down at her. He stroked her cheek. “I hope that wasn’t too forward,” he said. “I just…I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said. Her voice was a little hoarse and breathless. Her heart was racing and she felt a little giddy, as if she were full of electricity. She grabbed her glass and took a long swallow of the club soda. 

That kiss made the decision for her. Get lost, Mother.

“I don’t live too far from here,” she said. “What do you say we go back to my place?” She was feeling high on her own daring. This was exciting, all the more so because it was a little dangerous.

“Is that an invitation?” he said, grinning.

“It sure is,” she said.

“Then I accept.” His grin grew wider. She matched it.

*****

It was only about eight blocks back to her place. Sara usually made this trip in about ten minutes or so. But she had never made the trip in the company of a man who kept touching her and leaning in to kiss her, and this delayed things considerably. Penn’s hands were constantly on her body, touching her back, her arm, her shoulder. His lips brushed her neck, making her giggle, and once or twice his tongue flicked out to tease her earlobe. Her nerve endings sizzled and the eight blocks were starting to feel like eight miles.

They finally reached her building, and Penn didn’t even wait until they were inside her apartment. He was on her the second the elevator doors closed. He pinned her against the wall and kissed her, driving his tongue deep into her mouth. His hands slid underneath her blouse and groped at her breasts, rubbing her nipples through the thin material of her bra. She gasped and moaned into his mouth, turned on to an insane degree, to a level she had never even approached before. Her hands settled on his hips, trying to pull him even closer to her. She could feel him, hard and firm against her lower body, and even though she lacked experience she knew what she wanted to do with him.

Finally the elevator stopped at her floor and they managed to drag themselves out and into the hall. She felt drunk on something far more potent than alcohol. 

Her hands shook slightly as she took out her keys and Penn chuckled, amused by her efforts to hold the key steady enough to insert it into the lock on her door.

“Need any help?” he asked, stroking her arm idly.

She giggled. “No, I think I got it.” 

She managed to unlock the door and they entered her apartment. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about me,” she said as she closed and locked the door behind them and then turned on the hall light. “I’ve never done this before. Brought a guy home so soon after meeting him, I mean.”

“Really?” Penn said. “Lucky me, then.”

Normally she would have played hostess, offering him a drink or giving him the grand tour. But tonight all she wanted to do was take her new friend to bed.

He anticipated her, grabbing her as soon as she turned away from flicking on the light. “Where’s your bedroom?” he murmured against her neck, brushing his goatee against the super-sensitive skin.

“S-second door on the left,” she gasped. 

He seized her hand and led the way. She allowed herself to be led, thrilling at the way he took charge.

Once in the bedroom she somehow managed to turn on the bedside table lamp before he wrapped his arms around her again and leaned in for another deep kiss. She fell backwards onto the bed and stared up at him. Penn grinned down at her, such a confident, sexy smile that it made her belly tighten. He took his glasses off, carefully folded them, and placed them on her bedside table. That done, he reached down and slid off her shoes, tossing them aside, before joining her on the bed.

His mouth locked onto hers as his hands began to wander over her body, grazing her nipples again and again until she gasped. He seemed to take that as a cue to move lower, because the next thing she knew his hands were on her skirt, shoving it up to her waist. Something about being fully dressed while his hands ravaged her was unbearably exciting, and her breath came in short gasps as his fingers reached the waistband of her pantyhose. 

The material tore with a satisfying ripping sound and she lifted her hips slightly to allow Penn to yank the ruined hose down her legs. He tossed them aside, and then his fingers brushed the damp crotch of her cotton panties. 

“All ready for me, huh?” he said.

“Oh yes,” she groaned. 

He yanked down the panties as she again lifted her hips to help him. He slid his hand between her legs and began to caress her and she fell back, groaning. After a few moments of this his mouth found hers again and she eagerly responded to the twin assault of his lips on hers and his fingers playing around her wet center. Her arms slid around him, caressing his back, reveling in the feel of his muscular body through the thin material of his shirt.

He slid a finger inside her and she tensed slightly. She wasn’t used to being penetrated, and at first his finger met some resistance. He kept working it gently, a millimeter at a time, until she was wet and slick enough to allow him to ease it in all the way. He kept the finger in there, slowly turning it this way and that until her legs began to tremble. After a minute or so he added a second finger and this penetration was a little easier. He found a nice combination of thrusting his fingers in and out while rolling the pad of his thumb over her clit in a way that made her crumple inside.

His mouth left hers and settled on the side of her neck. She groaned again as his lips explored the soft skin. It wouldn’t take long at all…

Then his thumb hit her clit in just the right way and she came, letting out a soft cry. He didn’t stop his actions; in fact he speeded up the thrusting of his fingers. The pleasure just kept building and building. She had never felt anything like it. She was rapidly approaching her second peak, and just as she was about to reach it, a sharp pain struck her neck. It felt as if he had stuck her with two needles. 

She yipped and began to struggle, but Penn’s body on hers kept her practically immobile. He continued stroking his fingers in and out of her and rubbing her clit as he assaulted her neck. Good lord, was he biting her? She thought she could hear him sucking and slurping. Her neck was wet – from his saliva or her blood?

“Wait – what are you doing to me?” she gasped. There was no answer. The needle-stick sensations in her neck grew sharper, more painful. 

“Penn, stop! That hurts!” 

She tried to grab at his shoulders, to hit at him, but it was like hitting at a slab of concrete. He paid no attention to her efforts or her pleas for him to stop. His mouth was fixed on her neck while his hand continued to play between her legs. She tried to squirm free but couldn’t. 

His thumb worked her clit in rapid circles and she shuddered as the sensations began to build again. She could hardly believe it, but the pain from his biting and sucking somehow intensified the pleasure that his fingers continued to coax from her. She writhed underneath him, uttering little cries as the crazy onslaught of conflicting sensations drowned her in yet another climax. A deep groan rumbled in his throat, suggesting that he was enjoying himself too. 

Gradually the spasms died away but Penn continued to bite and suckle her. She began to feel weak, and her body slowly went limp. Her head fell back and her vision grayed out. As things faded she felt his lips leave her neck. The last thing she saw was a demonic face leering down at her, eyes burning red like two hot coals, its blood-smeared mouth gaping wide to expose wickedly sharp fangs. Before she could open her mouth to scream, everything went black.


	2. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Sara's encounter with Penn.

Sara came awake slowly, groaning as aches and pains settled into her body. She stared up at the ceiling, blinking. It took a few moments to realize where she was: at home, in her bed. The memories of the previous night began to trickle into her brain. 

She sat up abruptly, looking around. She was still dressed in her blouse and skirt, and she could see her shoes on the floor, along with her panties and shredded pantyhose. It had really happened, then. She had met Penn and invited him back here. She closed her eyes, remembering their sexual encounter and the crazy mix of pleasure and pain when he bit her. And then there was that horrible apparition at the very end. 

Oh God, that face. She shuddered.

Her neck throbbed dully. Shit, he had really bitten her! She shivered as she remembered the sucking sounds he had made at her neck, and the way he had groaned as if in ecstasy. He had gotten off on drinking her blood! He had to be crazy. 

She climbed out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. She leaned against the mirror and took a long look, wincing at her appearance. Her long brown hair was snarled and tangled, and underneath her eyes were faint purple smudges. Her face was pale and drawn. She looked like hell.

She pushed back a few strands of hair and focused her attention on the two puncture marks that stood out on her neck. The flesh around them was purple going into black. When she touched the marks the tenderness made her wince. She would have to wear high-necked blouses for a couple of days, or maybe a scarf, if she didn’t want some clown in her office wanting to know all about her kinky weekend.

No wonder she felt so sluggish. How much blood had she lost? She didn’t even want to consider the possibility that Penn had given her a disease. 

If she didn’t know better, she would think it was a vampire bite. The little round punctures in her neck didn’t appear to have been made by human teeth. When she looked at them the first thing she thought was fangs. She thought back to the party, and then the bar. All that time spent talking to Penn, her gaze focused on his face. His teeth had been perfectly straight and normal. But then she remembered watching the Twilight movies with Val, and she couldn’t recall seeing a single fang. So maybe vampires didn’t need to have fangs after all?

Oh this was ridiculous. Vampires aren’t real, she scolded herself. Penn was as human as she was. He had probably used some kind of dental prosthetic that he slipped into his mouth when she wasn’t looking. It couldn’t be too difficult to get a dentist to make a set for you, especially if you were willing to pay top dollar to satisfy your kink.

But what about that horrific face? A small, nagging voice in the back of her mind kept asking that question. Sara squashed it, refusing to entertain the notion that it had been the face of a vampire. The vision had obviously been a trick of her mind, brought on by a combination of the emotional and physical shock of his assault.

Vampires were not real! End of discussion. Penn was just a fucked up psycho with a Dracula fetish. If he was a monster, it was of the human variety, not supernatural. She had been lucky to get away with just a bite. He could have killed her.

He hadn’t killed her, but what if he had put her at risk for an infection that could land her in the emergency room? The thought of having to explain the bite to a doctor made her cringe. Quickly Sara opened her medicine cabinet and took out some cotton balls and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She dampened a cotton ball in the peroxide and gingerly dabbed it on the marks. 

When she decided that she had cleaned the wounds sufficiently she wiped them dry and smeared some antibiotic ointment on them. After rooting around in the medicine cabinet some more she found a small bandage and put it on her neck. There. Hopefully that would ward off any infection. 

Another unpleasant thought occurred to her as she was washing her hands. Penn now knew where she lived, so it was possible that he might show up at her door, looking for an encore. What would she do if he did show up? She ought to make a plan for that possibility, but right now she was too frazzled to think about it. 

It was also possible that he had gotten whatever twisted thrill he had been seeking and she would never see him again. She hoped so. More than anything she wanted to close the book on this incident. She wasn’t inclined to pursue it further. 

Calling the police was out of the question. She tried to imagine sitting down and telling a detective about the bite, the blood drinking, and especially her own ecstatic response. The idea made her skin crawl, even more so than the prospect of explaining an infected bite to an ER doctor. She was sure that a detective would be professional, even sympathetic. But talking about such intimate details with a stranger would be humiliating. It would be like starring in her own personal episode of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. 

No way. She wasn’t a victim, special or otherwise. She was alive, albeit a little sore and embarrassed. Things would probably be somewhat uncomfortable for the next few days, especially while the bite marks healed. But she would persevere. She would learn from this. 

Eventually she would be able to see this strange event as just a bizarre dating experience. She could even imagine laughing with Trish about this over cocktails at some point in the future. Hey, Trish, remember when I met that cute blond guy at your party? Well, you’ll never guess what happened when I took him home… 

On second thought, Trish might not find it all that amusing, better keep it to herself.

One thing was certain: she would be more careful about bringing men home. This incident would serve as an excellent cautionary tale. For once in her life she had wanted to be daring, and it could have killed her. She had let Penn charm and flatter her, and he had set her up perfectly for his perverted little game. It was time to go back to being prudent. Her mother would no doubt be satisfied to know that her daughter had sinned and been punished, and was now returning to the straight and narrow. 

Not that Sara would ever tell her about this. The woman would have a stroke.

Hell, thinking about all this was making her so tired and she already felt like crap. She might as well go back to bed. She had planned to go grocery shopping and then pick up her dry cleaning, but she had practically no energy. The best thing to do was get some rest and try to forget about last night.

Sara trudged back to her bedroom and shrugged out of the rest of her clothes. It occurred to her that she should check her body, just to make sure that Penn hadn’t done anything else to her while she was passed out. She went to the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door and examined her naked body in detail. 

Nope, no bruises or scratches, and apart from the ones on her neck there were no bite marks on her flesh. 

Her pussy felt a little sore, probably from the actions of his fingers. Gingerly she explored her opening but found no tearing or blood. She guessed that she would feel even sorer if he had used something bigger to penetrate her. But it looked like he had left her alone after she had passed out. He had even turned off the bedside lamp.

She was pulling on a pair of cozy flannel pajamas when another question hit her: had he stolen anything? She went to her dresser and checked her jewelry box. No, everything was still there. She went back out into the hall and found her purse on the floor halfway to the bedroom. She dimly remembered dropping it after Penn had grabbed her hand to lead her to the bedroom. She bent down and picked it up. 

Her wallet was there, with all of her cash, as well as her debit and credit card. Her cell phone was also tucked into her purse’s side pocket, just where she had left it. She breathed a huge sigh of relief and then went to her door and locked it. The solid thunk of the deadbolt made her feel much better.

A quick inventory of the apartment revealed that her iPod, computer, printer and DVD player were present and accounted for. Finally, she went to her kitchen cabinet to check on her emergency cash stash. It wasn’t much, just a collection of tens and twenties that she kept in a coffee mug at the back of the cupboard. Yes, there it was. The collection of bills was exactly as she had left it. Two hundred and twenty dollars all rolled up and secured with a rubber band. 

Everything was in its place. He hadn’t taken as much as a beer from her fridge. Okay, so Penn wasn’t a thief, just a pervert. 

Sara stood in her kitchen and looked around. For a moment she had the irrational fear that he might leap out from the shadows and grab her. Stop it, she told herself. She was already feeling lousy; she didn’t need to make things worse by turning him into the boogeyman.

She went back into the bedroom, made sure the blinds were closed and the room was as dark as possible, and then snuggled under the covers. When she was finally comfortable, she let out a long sigh. The word “disappointed” didn’t even begin to describe the sense of loss and sadness that settled in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes misted up.

She had felt so hopeful and excited when she and Penn left the party. He was so handsome and charming, and he had treated her with such kindness. He had really seemed interested in her, and her body had certainly responded to him. Things had gone so well that she had allowed herself to imagine that this was her new beginning. And then he had turned out to be a psycho. 

It was devastating, so soon after the demise of her relationship with Greg the bullying jackass. And then there was Will, her college boyfriend who had dumped her when she balked at uprooting her life to help him pursue his dreams. 

Was there something about her that attracted the wrong type of man? Or was she simply too inexperienced to read their warning signals until it was too late? She dropped off to sleep, still wrestling with these questions.

Once she fell asleep a dream of Penn began almost immediately. She could once again feel his hands tearing at her clothes, ravishing her body, touching her as if he owned her. Her body responded, her pleasure mounting as his fingers thrust into her. And then, at the peak of her excitement, his teeth once again sank into her neck. At that exact moment she jolted awake, tingling all over, gasping and shuddering as another orgasm exploded through her. 

When the last pulses died away she realized that her right hand was jammed down the front of her now-damp pajama bottoms. Her first two fingers were buried inside her, up to the second knuckle. She pulled her hand out, grimacing at the wetness on her fingers. She could hardly believe what she’d done. She’d had sexy dreams before, even dreams that ended in a climax, but she had never woken up like this before. 

It was obviously not going to be so easy to forget about what had happened last night.

*****

Trish called on Sunday afternoon, as promised. Sara had been dreading the call, and with good reason. Trish wasted no time getting down to business.

“So, how did you and that blond hunk make out Friday night?”

Sara imagined saying, “That blond hunk was a blood-drinking psycho. Nice bunch of friends you have there, Trish.” The vision was so clear that for a moment she thought she had actually said it.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. No, she hadn’t said it. Good. Because lashing out at Trish wouldn’t help matters. She couldn’t hurt her friend’s feelings like that. Trish wasn’t responsible for what Penn had done. She didn’t even know him. 

Aloud she said, “We got along okay. I don’t know if I’m going to see him again, though.” She was careful to keep her tone neutral.

“Oh. I was hoping something would happen between you two. You seemed so excited.” The disappointment in her friend’s tone was touching. 

Something happened, all right. “Well, we’ll just have to see, I guess.” Sara silently begged her to drop the subject.

Thankfully Trish moved on to other topics. They chatted for another twenty minutes or so, and when Sara sensed a lull in the conversation she pleaded fatigue and brought things to a close. They made plans to have lunch soon and Sara hung up, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. She was still feeling tired and listless. It would probably take a couple of days to recover from the loss of blood. Maybe she should stop by the drugstore later and pick up some iron tablets. Yes, she would do that…but first, another nap. 

This guy did some number on me, she thought.


	3. The Longest Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara continues to deal with the aftermath of her encounter with Penn.

On Monday morning Sara saw that the punctures were completely scabbed over. The bruising around the bite marks was still ugly, although not quite as tender to the touch. After breakfast she replaced the bandage and then looked around her wardrobe in search of something that would cover the marks. At last she found a blue silk scarf that nicely complemented one of her suits. She dressed quickly and then wound the scarf around her neck until the marks were completely hidden. A quick appraisal in the mirror made her smile a little. She looked quite chic, and with the wounds concealed she felt much more confident. 

Her good mood didn’t last. Her daily commute was ordinarily quite smooth: a thirty minute bus ride, during which time Sara usually listened to her iPod, read a book or looked out the window and daydreamed. But this morning the bus arrived late and was packed. She had no choice but to stand for the whole thirty minutes, and by the time she got off at her stop she was tired and shaky on her feet. 

She grabbed a bench at the bus stop and sat there for a few minutes to regain her strength. She leaned back and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths.

“Hey, are you okay Sara?”

She opened her eyes and saw Jennifer, one of the other secretaries, standing in front of her, frowning. Crap. “Oh. Hi Jen. Yeah, I’m just feeling a little under the weather. I’ll be okay.”

Jennifer didn’t appear to be convinced. “You look a little pale. Do you need any help?”

Sara managed a smile and shook her head. “No, I’m good. Really. You go ahead. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Okay. See you in a few.” Jennifer walked away and crossed the street to their office building. Sara watched her go, cursing under her breath. She hoped Jen wouldn’t tell the other secretaries about seeing her like this. She hated looking vulnerable in front of her co-workers. 

She sighed and got up from the bench. Might as well head into the office.

*****

The morning went by slowly, but she managed to get through it thanks to some strong coffee. At lunchtime she went to the Subway around the corner. When she was done with her sandwich she lingered at her little corner table for the rest of the hour instead of going out to stroll around and window shop as she normally did. Even though it was a beautiful autumn day she didn’t have the energy to venture too far. 

When she returned from lunch she saw a stack of work waiting on her desk. She reached for the first thing on the pile. It was a tape that needed to be transcribed. Quickly she fired up the dictaphone, rewound the tape and adjusted the volume, then put her headphones on and set to work. Soon she was busily typing away, oblivious to everything except her boss’s slightly nasal voice, the feel of her fingers dancing over the keyboard, and the sensation of her right foot pressing the dictaphone pedal every time she had to stop the tape or rewind it a little. Transcription was one of her favorite tasks. It was familiar, comforting, something she had done dozens of times during her two years with the firm. 

She had been working steadily for about fifteen minutes when Penn’s face flashed into her mind. Her fingers froze on the keyboard. The tape kept going, and her boss droned on: “The agreement needs to be amended to reflect the company’s change of ownership from Frank Morris to his son Kenneth, period. Kenneth will now own fifty-one percent of the Class A shares and Frank will own‒”

“Really? All mine?” Penn’s voice slipped into her mind as clearly as if it had been recorded on the tape instead of her boss’s memo. And on the heels of that came the memory of him kissing her at the bar. 

Yearning hit her, sharp as a stomach cramp. For a couple of seconds she forgot to breathe and the air around her seemed unbearably hot. She stopped the tape, ripped off her headphones and fled for the ladies room. 

She sat on the toilet in the stall, elbows on her thighs and her head in her hands, trying to regain her sense of equilibrium. Thank God no one else was in the restroom. She didn’t want to deal with well-meaning people asking her if she was all right – especially when she wasn’t sure if she was.

She took a few deep breaths and managed to feel a little better. Not much, but it was a start. She left the stall and went to the sink, where she splashed a little cold water on her face and forced herself not to look at her neck. 

Things didn’t improve as the day went on. Thoughts of Penn kept popping up at the most inopportune moments, and Sara couldn’t figure out why. Maybe the blood loss was messing with her head. Or, hell, maybe she was suffering from post-traumatic stress. What else could it be? She wasn’t in love with him – after his little stunt on Friday night she didn’t even like him. If he appeared before her right now she would slap his face.

Her mind kept bouncing back and forth between two ideas. First, it was undeniably true that Penn was a dangerously disturbed man, and that she was lucky he hadn’t raped and killed her. But it was also true that their encounter had been the most erotic thing that had happened in her (admittedly limited) sexual career. He had known just how to touch and kiss her, and her body longed to experience it again.

How could both of these ideas be true at the same time? Sara had no answer for that question, and it continued to torment her for the rest of the day into the evening.

That night brought no rest or relief. Penn’s image was the last thing behind her eyes before she went to sleep, and once she dropped off she entered a dream world where he took her in every possible way and she loved it, begging for more. He wore that confident, sexy grin as he whispered all kinds of filthy promises, just before biting her neck again. 

This time, however, she willingly offered her neck to him.

She woke up gasping and quivering, the sheets wrapped around her like a half-assed attempt at bondage as her hands worked between her thighs. The need to come was like a compulsion, and she drove herself toward that goal, spurred on by the memory of that pain-pleasure mix, caressing herself with desperate, single-minded energy. At last she was rewarded with an explosion of pleasure that galvanized her body and made her cry out. 

When the crisis was over she lay in bed, limp as a dishrag and bathed in sweat. But even after achieving her release it took forever to get back to sleep, and when morning came she could barely drag herself out of bed to start the day.

On Tuesday, her preoccupation and fatigue made work a torture. She had always enjoyed the hustle and energy of the office, but right now the work routine was simply draining. The endless grind of answering phones, typing correspondence and filing was so tedious that at times it was very hard to focus, especially when it seemed that a big chunk of her brain was determined to tantalize her with daydreams about Penn. 

On one occasion she spaced out while standing at the copier. The copies were finished but sat forgotten in the output tray as she stared out the window into the traffic twenty stories below. She was thinking of the way Penn’s goatee had tickled her neck. Delightful shivers raced down her spine and her nipples tingled as they came to attention. 

A discreet cough behind her brought her back to reality. She looked wildly around her and saw Jon from two desks over, holding a stack of papers and looking at her strangely. 

Muttering an apology, she grabbed her copies (almost tearing the top one) and practically raced back to her cubicle. Once there she spent an inordinate amount of time straightening and rearranging every object and piece of paper on her desk, paying close attention to everything. She didn’t dare look up. She could imagine her co-workers nudging each other and whispering about her.

She had to pull herself together. If she kept getting distracted like this she would start making mistakes. Over the past two years she had built a solid reputation here. If her work began to slip people would notice. The attorneys here could be temperamental under the best of circumstances; she didn’t want to test their patience.

What could she say to Peter, her boss, if he asked her what was wrong? There always seemed to be some bug going around the office. She could say she was sick. It wouldn’t be a lie – she did feel ill. Maybe she could even call in sick tomorrow.

That wasn’t a bad idea, actually. A sick day might be just what she needed. She didn’t remember the last time she had taken one. She had even come to work when she had that miserable cold back in February. A break in the middle of the week might help her recover faster.

*****

She woke on Wednesday morning after another night of broken sleep and decided to go for it. At a few minutes before nine she called the office and got Jennifer. Trying to make herself sound as weak as possible, she explained that she had picked up some bug and would not be coming in.

“No problem,” Jen said. “I noticed you haven’t quite seemed yourself the last couple of days. I think something’s going around. A couple of the girls on the thirty-second floor have been sick too.”

“Really? You may be right.” Maybe Penn got to them too.

“Take care of yourself. Hope you feel better.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll be okay for tomorrow.”

“Okay, just let me know.”

Sara hung up the phone, relieved, then promptly rolled over and went back to sleep. 

She was lying in bed, completely naked, looking up at Penn. He smirked at her and held up his arm. Two long silk scarves cascaded from his hand like a magic trick. “Guess what I’m going to do with these.”

She couldn’t move or speak, just continued to stare at him. This had to be a dream because she felt no embarrassment about her nudity. Penn moved his arm and let the ends of the scarves trail down her body, from her neck to her belly button, stopping just short of her mound. Her skin tingled and broke out in goosebumps. 

He chuckled and slowly dragged the scarves back up her body. He brushed them in the soft valley between her breasts, then flicked his wrist and swept them over first one nipple, then the other. She moaned.

Penn winked at her and then swiftly used the scarves to tie her wrists to the headboard. 

“You’re mine, Sara. You can’t get away. You’ll never escape from me.” He stood back and grinned down at her, admiring his handiwork. His blue-green eyes pierced her, making her feel that he could see into her mind and that all her deepest secrets and fantasies were on display for him. He gently caressed her breasts and teased her nipples into full hardness. 

“You like it when I touch you like this, Sara?” he said. 

She moaned and writhed in her bonds. “Oh yes. More, please.”

“Patience, my pet. You’re not in charge here. I am. And I’m going to take my time with you.” He climbed on top of her and lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips touched.

A shrieking wail shattered the dream and brought her awake, gasping and looking around wildly. After a second she placed the sound. A fire truck. Damn!

She groaned and fell back on the bed. This was the most vivid dream yet. Too bad she couldn’t have seen it to its conclusion. It was like a scene from one of her favorite erotic novels.

Well, she could imagine how it would have ended. She closed her eyes and slid her hand down the front of her pajama bottoms.

*****

Taking the sick day helped her feel a little better and she was able to finish the week. Still, by the time five o’clock arrived on Friday, Sara was bone-tired. As she headed for the elevator, her phone began to ring in her purse. She dug it out, afraid that it was Penn, even though her rational mind told her that it couldn’t be him because she had never given him her number.

The caller ID reassured her. It was Val. “Sara! Me and Kim are going to PJ’s. Two dollar margaritas until eight! You in?”

Any other time she would say yes, but right now the thought of PJ’s, with its loud music and dense crowds, was overwhelming. And as tired as she was, a margarita would probably knock her unconscious. “Sorry hon, but I’ve had a lousy week. I feel like hell. I think I’m coming down with a bug. I’m just going to head on home.”

“Aw, babe, I’m sorry. I hope you feel better.” There was a brief muffled conversation, then Val was back. “Kim says feel better.”

“Thanks, guys. Have fun.” 

Once she was out in the cool evening air, she was surprised to find that she was hungry – almost starving, in fact. Her appetite had been poor the last few days, and all week dinner had consisted of a can of soup or a sandwich. Now she was in the mood for a real meal, so she decided to have dinner at The Parkway, the diner around the corner from her apartment. 

The bus actually showed up on time for once, and within a half hour she was walking in The Parkway’s front door. From his perch by the cash register Louie greeted her with his customary “How’s it going, doll?”

“Going good now that it’s Friday, Louie,” she said, making her way to an empty booth.

“So, got any hot dates lined up this weekend?” Louie stood up and ambled over to her table, menu in hand.

“Well, you keep turning me down, so I guess I’m all alone again this weekend,” she said. 

Louie placed the menu before her and dropped a wink. “I’d love to go out with you, doll. But the wife would kill me, you know?”

“Excuses, excuses,” she said, laughing. 

He gave her a little wave and headed back to the cash register. She smiled, shook her head and reached for the menu. After the week she’d had she was in the mood for comfort food, so she chose to treat herself to the meatloaf special with mashed potatoes and extra gravy. To hell with eating healthy, at least for tonight. 

The food was hearty and plentiful and she cleaned her plate. She topped it off with a dish of strawberry ice cream that was so sweet and creamy it gave her the shivers as it slid down her throat. Oh yes. This was why she kept coming back to The Parkway. When every last bit of the ice cream was gone she sat back in her seat and smiled. For the first time all week it seemed possible that her life was going to return to some kind of normalcy. 

Once she paid her check and left she decided that she would end her evening at home, relaxing on the couch with a glass of white wine. Maybe she’d find an old movie on Turner Classic, or some cheesy true-crime flick on Lifetime. Either choice sounded good.

Tonight she would be able to sleep. This was good, because she had quite a few errands to take care of this weekend. Last weekend had been a bust, so she had a bit of catching up to do. As she walked home through the twilight she began to compile a mental to-do list. Laundry, grocery shopping, phone call to her parents (that one would be a real chore), pick up a prescription from Walgreens…

She turned the corner onto her block. And came to a dead stop.

Penn was standing in front of her building. 

_Oh shit._


	4. Bad Penny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara hates and fears Penn. But when he re-enters her life, she's suddenly not so sure of her feelings.

Seeing Penn outside her building made Sara feel as if a huge hand had suddenly grabbed hold of her heart and squeezed it. Her good mood vanished.

His words from her dream came back to her: “You’ll never escape from me.”

The bad penny had turned up. That was what her mother always said when Uncle Bill came around looking for a handout after losing yet another job. But at least a request for money made sense. What did Penn want from her now? She could kick herself for not coming up with a plan for this.

She hesitated, considered walking away. He was facing away from her and hadn’t seen her yet. If she hurried she could turn back around the corner before he saw her. There was a Barnes and Noble over on Fifth – she could duck in there and browse for an hour or so. Maybe Penn would get tired of waiting for her and leave. 

She had actually taken a step or two backward when she came to her senses. What the hell was she thinking? He wasn’t going to chase her away from her own home. If she ducked him now he would only come back another time. No, it was better to face him. Besides, this was a good opportunity to tell him off. Maybe even slap his face. 

With her resolve strengthened, she began to walk toward her building. Her eyes locked onto Penn, drawn to his profile and the way the streetlight picked out the highlights in his spiky hair. Damn, but he was gorgeous! Tonight he was wearing a black sport jacket and slacks with a shirt that was almost the color of blood oranges. She imagined slipping that jacket off and caressing his chest through the thin material of his shirt. She could remember all too well how his body felt. 

Shit, shit, shit! She picked up her pace as if she could leave those dangerous thoughts behind. When she was about ten feet from her building Penn turned in her direction. His glasses made his face look scholarly and serious, but the effect was spoiled by his cocky smile. 

“Hi Sara,” he said. As if nothing had happened.

In spite of her irritation, seeing him and hearing him say her name kindled heat in her belly. It got worse the closer she came to him, like a radio signal that got stronger and stronger with every step she took. Memories of their sexual encounter flooded her mind and sent vibrations down to her clit. She suddenly wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap him after all. 

She came to a stop about two feet from him. “Why are you here?” she said.

He didn’t seem to notice her harsh tone. “I wanted to see you. I figured you’d come home around six, so I thought I’d wait for you. How was your week?”

Her anger overwhelmed her and spilled out. “You really want to know? It was shitty. I’m exhausted. I can’t focus at work. I haven’t been able to sleep, and for some reason I can’t stop thinking about _you_. And I hate it!” Her voice grew louder as she spoke, and people passing by turned to look at her. She didn’t care. It felt good to vent.

“Why do you hate it?” He seemed genuinely interested in her answer.

Exasperated, she pointed at her neck, still wrapped in a scarf. “Have you forgotten about this?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said. “I can’t stop thinking about you either. I had to see you again.”

“Don’t.” She held up a hand. “Don’t try the smooth talk. It worked once, it won’t work again.”

“Smooth talk?”

His puzzled expression made her want to shake him. “Don’t act innocent with me!” Her voice rose again. A woman passing by gave them both a wide berth.

She took a breath and went on in a lower tone of voice. “All that crap you said about how special I am and how I deserve better. Acting like such a nice guy. Acting like you liked me. You knew just what to say, didn’t you? You knew just how to get me to trust you. And then…and then you…” She glared at him, unable to come up with words that would express her hurt. 

She blinked hard to force back tears. He must not see her cry. She must not give him that power over her.

Her outburst didn’t seem to bother Penn. The puzzled expression left his face, and he simply stood there silently as the words poured out of her. Did he even comprehend what she was saying?

“But I do like you,” he said when she was quiet. “If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wasn’t trying to manipulate you or trick you when I said you were special. You have no idea how special you are, Sara.” His voice was calm, soothing.

The ache in her heart increased, a bittersweet kind of hurt that threatened to smother her anger. She had never realized how badly she needed to hear someone say those words to her. No one had ever told her she was special, not her mother, not her father, certainly not Greg. 

She was so confused. Too many emotions swirling inside her, and she still felt that inexplicable pull towards him. It was as if she was falling, or he was pulling her under. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t she fight it?

Penn took a step closer to her. “Can you do something for me, Sara?”

She eyed him warily. “What.” 

“Take off the scarf. Let me see your neck.”

She touched the scarf. “Why? You want to gloat?”

“I just want to see, okay? I’m not going to touch you.”

“You really are crazy, you know that?”

For some reason that made him smile. She looked at him, considering his request. What was the harm? Maybe once she satisfied his curiosity he would go away. And there were people all around them, passing by on the sidewalk and driving down the street. He wouldn’t dare try anything with so many witnesses.

She unwound the scarf and stuffed it in her purse. Penn took another couple of steps until he was almost close enough to touch her. She caught her breath. She could feel that electricity coming from him. Her whole body tensed, ready to run if he so much as brushed her. And at the same time she ached for him to touch her.

“Raise your head, just a little, and turn it to the side,” he murmured. “Move your hair too. Show me.” His pupils dilated slightly as his gaze fixed on her. His nostrils flared, as if he were trying to catch her scent. It was a little unnerving.

She did as he asked and turned her head to one side, lifting her hair slightly. “How’s that? Maybe you’d like me to shine a flashlight on my neck too?”

“Thanks for the offer, but this is perfect. Now stay like that.” 

She stood completely still, keeping her hair up and her head turned aside. His body was so close to hers, yet he kept his word and did not touch her. But the intensity of his stare was almost like a touch. She was a little glad that she couldn’t see his face. 

What was going through his mind? Was he reliving what he had done to her? Did it turn him on? Ick, she didn’t want to think about that.

He stood there for what seemed like a long time, not moving or speaking. Her arms were beginning to tire from holding up her hair. 

This was ridiculous. She should put a stop to it. But something held her frozen in place.

Finally he took a step back. “It’s healing,” he said. 

“Disappointed?” She turned back to face him as she let her hair fall down again.

“No. Because even after it’s completely healed, you’ll still have my mark. You’ll have it forever.” He smiled. “A little souvenir of our night together. I know I’ll never forget it.”

“Me neither. No matter how hard I try.” She couldn’t suppress a hint of bitterness in her tone.

“We can make some more memories tonight, if you like.” His smile widened and his eyebrow arched a little.

Her breath caught. His words let loose a torrent of images and memories of sensations that made her tingle. His lips, his fingers…his teeth. 

No, she mustn’t give in to him! “You think I’m going to bring you into my home again? Why? So you can ‒” Just in time she remembered to lower her voice.

“So you can bite me again?” she finished in a whisper.

“I’m not going to bite you, Sara. I promise. But I would like to be with you again. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

“You must be insane. Or you think I am.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re a sick creep and you attacked me. You got off on it. You’re _still_ getting off on it.”

His eyes widened a little. “You really think I’m sick?”

“I know you are. I’ve got the marks on my neck to prove it.” She stared hard at him. “What’s your deal, anyway?”

“My deal?” He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Your little bite fetish.”

“Oh! I get it.” He nodded, smiling. “Well, it’s not really a fetish. But I must admit, I am a little kinky.” He chuckled. “To me sex is a big beautiful playground, and I love to explore and play games in bed. Isn’t it like that for you?”

Sara’s face felt very warm. “We’re not talking about me.”

He arched that eyebrow again. “Aren’t we?” His eyes burned into hers. For a moment she thought he could see inside her mind. 

She shifted her feet, not knowing what to say. _Sex is a playground._ What an amazing idea. It made her shiver. 

When she didn’t answer, Penn shrugged. “Well, look, I don’t show my kinky side to just anyone, and usually I give my lovers some warning before I try something…adventurous. But that night things were so hot, I kind of got caught up in the moment.” His expression became more thoughtful. “Maybe I sprung it on you too fast. But you seemed to be into it, Sara.”

She blushed again as thoughts of that crazy pleasure-pain mix made her tingle. He was right, damn him. Some part of her had enjoyed his bite. Why else would she dream about it? Oh God, she must be as sick as he was!

But was his kink really all that unusual? She couldn’t look to her past boyfriends as a guide. Will had made it clear that premarital sex was off-limits, and her two fumbling sexual encounters with Greg were best forgotten. She had no experience that she could use to judge Penn, only her own desire.

He was looking at her as if he expected a response. She cleared her throat. “I, uh, did enjoy it.” She kept her voice low, hardly able to believe she was saying this to him. “But you didn’t seem to – to get too much out of it.” She had been wondering about this. He had never even unzipped his pants. 

He closed the gap between them, reached out and caressed her cheek. His blue-green eyes captured hers as her breath stopped. 

“I got a great deal of satisfaction from our encounter,” he said. His voice was like honey spilling over her skin. He lightly traced her jawline with one finger. “There are many ways to enjoy pleasure, Sara.”

_Show me_ , she thought. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from saying it out loud. One thought blazed through her brain: he liked her and trusted her enough to share his kinky side with her. 

His finger traced her jaw again and came to rest on her chin. They looked at each other, not speaking. 

She had to clear the fog from her brain. Abruptly she stepped back. “You’re confusing me,” she said. Her voice was a little hoarse. Her skin tingled where he had touched her.

“How so?” He grinned at her. “Tell me, Sara. Maybe I can clear things up.”

“I feel something for you,” she said. “But I can’t forget about that bite, Penn. I don’t mean the – the kinky part. I mean after, when I passed out. You just left me there. If I’m so special to you, why did you leave me like that?”

His smile faded. “I didn’t leave right away. I stayed with you and cleaned you up a little. The bite wasn’t very deep and there wasn’t much blood. I figured you were okay.”

“Why didn’t you put a bandage on me?”

He sighed, a little impatient. “I was afraid you’d wake up any second, and I didn’t want to face you. Okay? I knew you’d be pissed at me, and you had every right to be. I thought it’d be best if I just left. I’d give you a little time and then I’d come back and talk to you.” 

“You should have stayed,” she said. “I was pissed when I woke up, but I was scared too.” The demonic face popped into her mind for a moment, and she pushed the image away. No need to bring that up – it would sound crazy.

He nodded. “You’re right, I should have stayed. I should have explained all of this a week ago.”

She gave him a rueful smile. “If you had, my week might have been better.”

“I made a mistake – okay, a couple of mistakes,” he said. “But that doesn’t change what went before. What we had at the party, at the bar. That was all real, Sara.”

She stared hard at him, and suddenly she could see the man who had intrigued her a week ago. 

“Can you give me another chance? Please?” He said the word as if it were part of a foreign language he hadn’t fully mastered. Clearly he wasn’t used to asking nicely for things. The fact that he was making an effort was strangely touching.

The smart thing –the _moral_ thing – would be to walk away right now. Her building was only a few feet away. If she left now, she was certain that he wouldn’t stop her. She was equally certain that she would never see him again.

Ah, that was the problem, wasn’t it? Never seeing him again. 

_There are many ways to enjoy pleasure, Sara_. If she left him now, she’d never find out what he meant by that.

“I suppose we could talk about it.” she said. 

“That’s all I ask.” He spread his hands as if offering her something.

She took a deep breath and then made a decision. “All right. Come on up. But _just_ to talk, understand?” He nodded.

She wondered if she’d be able to stick to that vow if he touched her again. “I hope I don’t end up regretting this.”

“You won’t, Sara.” He beamed at her, a smile that was so warm and engaging it made her chest ache.

She made a noncommittal grunt and headed into the building. He caught up to her easily and fell into step beside her. He made no effort to touch her, but she could feel him just inches from her. 

What a strange turn of events. Minutes ago she had been thinking about slapping his face. Now she was bringing him back to the scene of his crime. It was as if she didn’t know her own mind anymore.

They entered the elevator. This time she stayed as far away from him as possible, pressed up against one side of the car, near the button panel. She may have given him a second chance, but she didn’t fully trust him just yet. Penn kept to the other side of the car. They both faced forward, not speaking, as the car began its slow, creaky ascent. 

Being in the confined space with him for ten floors was nearly unbearable. The urge to touch him was so powerful she had to clasp her hands in front of her and squeeze them tightly. She tried to look straight ahead but she was too aware of his presence, and she kept sneaking sidelong glances at him as the elevator ascended. He kept his eyes front, but the slight smirk on his lips made her think that he knew she was looking at him.

Finally they reached her floor. The doors wheezed open and she all but raced into the hall. She heard his footsteps behind her. He was moving briskly, but didn’t seem to be hurrying. By contrast, she was moving almost at a trot. Even so, he always remained right on her heels. She fought the temptation to look back at him. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a bad idea. Last time she didn’t know that she was walking into a trap when she brought him up here. What was she walking into this time?


	5. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara is sure that she wants nothing to do with Penn, but when he re-enters her life she is no longer sure of anything.

At her door she experienced a moment of déjà vu as she fumbled with her bag. Her hands shook and she almost dropped her keys. Penn stood close, too close, watching her. She glanced at him, suddenly desperate for some breathing room. “Would you mind giving me a little space?”

He raised his hands and took a step back, smirking.

That helped a little and she managed to get the door open. She hurried inside and without a word he followed her. She flicked on the light and closed and locked the door. 

Sara turned around, and she gasped. Penn was standing right in front of her, his face just inches from hers. She hadn’t heard him move so close to her.

“Don’t sneak up on me, damn it!” She spoke more harshly than she had intended, but Penn didn’t seem offended. 

“Sorry,” he said with a smirk. “I wanted a kiss.” 

There was nothing she’d like more than to kiss him. But something in her urged caution. “Not just yet, okay?” she said in a softer tone.

“Not just yet,” he repeated.

He looked at her without speaking for a few moments. He was focused on her face as if he was trying to decipher something in her expression. It was giving her the urge to fidget. Just when she was about to tell him to stop he said, “Do I make you nervous, Sara?”

“A little,” she admitted.

He laughed softly. “I’m not the big bad wolf. You’re safe with me.”

She gave him a small smile. “I hope so. I’d really like to be able to trust you, Penn.”

He watched her as she shrugged out of her light coat and hung it up in the tiny hall closet. “Want me to hang up your jacket?” she asked. 

“Thank you.” He slipped off his jacket and handed it to her. She held it for a moment, staring at his body. Oh dear lord, that shirt was almost painted on. It showed off every muscle. Heat crept up her neck.

“Would you like me to take off the shirt too?” Just a hint of laughter in his tone.

She snapped to attention and looked at his face. He smiled at her as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking.   
“Sorry.” Quickly she turned to the closet and began searching for a hanger. At first glance there didn’t seem to be a free one. She fumbled through her coats and sweaters. All the while she felt his stare on her. Damn it, why did she have so many sweaters anyway? There had to be an empty hanger! 

She took a deep breath and made herself look again. There, at the end of the rack. Relieved, she took it and slipped Penn’s jacket onto it. As she did so she caught a whiff of his cologne. It was a musky, spicy scent. Sandalwood maybe? Whatever it was, she liked it. It suited him nicely. She wanted to bury her face in the material and inhale deeply. 

Instead she placed the hanger on the rack and turned to face Penn again. He still had that knowing grin.

“All right,” she said. “I want to talk about… about what happened. So let’s go in the living room. But we’re just going to talk, okay?” She felt that she needed the reminder more than he did. 

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

“That should be a refreshing change for you,” she snarked as she made for the living room. Behind her Penn chuckled.

Sara turned on the lamp, dumped her bag on the end table, and settled in at one end of the living room couch. He sat down at the other end. There was a gap of about a foot and a half between them. She very much wanted to close that gap and have him put his arms around her.

She cleared her throat. “May I offer you anything to drink?”

“Thank you, but I’m not thirsty, now.” He grinned. “But I did enjoy the drink you gave me last week.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” she snapped. “Is this all a big joke to you?”

Penn’s smile faded and he looked contrite. “No. It isn’t. I’m sorry, that was in bad taste.”

She relaxed a little. “Yeah, it was. But I’m glad you brought it up. I wanted to talk about it.”

“Go ahead.”

“You said that biting is one of your kinks?” 

“Yes, and I think we’ve established that it’s one of yours too,” he pointed out.

She shifted her feet uncomfortably. “Maybe it is. But what about drinking blood? Is that another kink? Because I’m not comfortable with it at all.”

“Well no, it isn’t a kink. I got caught up in the fantasy.”

Her brow furrowed. “What, you were playing vampire?”

“Playing. Yes.” The corner of his mouth twitched and for a moment she thought he might laugh. Then his expression grew serious. “I’m so sorry I scared you. It was never my intention to frighten you.”

She eyed him distrustfully. “It can’t ever happen again. Do you understand?”

He smiled at her. “Sara, I don’t need to bite or drink blood in order to enjoy sex. I won’t ever bite you unless you want me to. And no blood drinking. I promise. I want you to be completely comfortable with everything we do sexually.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You seem pretty confident that we’re going to be, uh, intimate again.”

He looked directly at her. “You don’t want me?”

She had no answer for that. It was hard to think when his eyes were fixed on hers. Maybe he did have a reason to be confident.

Better change the subject. “I’ve been wondering about something else, too. How did you make those neat little punctures in my neck? They didn’t look like regular teeth marks. They looked like fangs.”

“You think so?” His eyes lit up and his smile grew wider. 

It seemed odd that this should please him so. “Yeah, I do. You were really into that vampire fantasy, huh? Did you use a special set of dentures?”

He raised his eyebrows in an expression of mock dismay. “Why, Sara. You don’t expect me to reveal all my secrets so early in our relationship, do you?” His tone was light, teasing.

“You can tell me.”

He shook his head, smirking. “Not just yet, my dear. Patience.”

Something about his playful refusal charmed her. She laughed. “Okay, fine. Hold onto your secret for now if you like.”

“Thank you. And I will tell you eventually. But for now let’s preserve a little mystery. I don’t want you to get bored with me.”

“Oh, I doubt that would ever happen.” She matched his teasing tone. 

“Good, I’m glad.” He looked her over. “It’s really good to see you again, Sara. You don’t know how happy I am to be here with you.”

Some indefinable tension went out of her and she relaxed, leaning back on the couch. She looked at his handsome face and felt that pull again. But this time it wasn’t so scary. 

“I’m glad you’re here too,” she said. 

He nodded, smiling. “And right now I want nothing more than to kiss you. To taste your sweet mouth.”

She couldn’t look away from him. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please, Penn.”

Penn slid down the couch, closing the gap between them. He touched her cheek and she raised her head. Their lips met. It was a soft kiss at first, but then his mouth opened and his tongue sought entry. Her lips parted and his tongue slipped inside, touching hers gently. She moaned and her arms slid around him. She caught another whiff of that exotic scent and it was intoxicating.

Penn’s mouth moved off hers and he kissed her chin, her jaw, and then his lips were on her neck. Sara gasped and her body stiffened as his mouth brushed the spot where he had bitten her. 

“Don’t fear,” he murmured against her flesh. “No biting.” He kissed her neck and she moaned. Her hands found the back of his head and tangled in his hair.

He raised his head and grinned at her. His eyes were a dark blue now, the color of a stormy sea. “I want to play,” he said. “Do you want to play, Sara?” He lightly stroked her breast through the thin material of her blouse.

“Uh huh.” She didn’t feel able to form words. All of her attention was focused on his fingers as they lazily circled her nipple.

“Then let’s go to the bedroom and play.” He stood up and held out a hand. Without hesitation she took it and rose from the couch. They stood facing each other for a moment, then Penn lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Sweet little Sara,” he said. “Come with me.”

She allowed him to lead her out of the room, her hand firmly in his. Her brain didn’t even entertain the idea of refusing him. He was in control and it excited her.

Once they were in her bedroom Penn removed his glasses, carefully folded them and placed them on her nightstand. He flicked on the lamp. “I want to see you,” he said. “I love looking at you.”

“I want to see you too.” She slipped off her shoes and kicked them aside. He turned back to her and she reached for the buttons on her blouse.

“Please, let me,” he said.

She let her hands fall to her sides and watched as he undid the buttons one by one. The blouse fell open, revealing her plain white bra. She wished she was wearing something sexier.

Penn slipped the blouse from her shoulders and it fell to the floor. Her breathing quickened and heat rose in her cheeks. His fingers glided over her belly and settled on the band of her skirt. She had never noticed how large his hands were until now. Their motions were graceful. Rings on his index and ring fingers gleamed in the light from her bedside lamp. 

He smiled at her and teased a finger inside her waistband. She giggled and his smile grew wider. 

“Ticklish?” he said. “I’ll have to remember that.”

Slowly he unzipped the skirt and it too fell to the floor. She stepped out of it and stood before him in her bra and pantyhose.

His gaze traveled over her body from head to toe. “You’re so lovely,” he said.

She swallowed hard, not knowing how to respond to that. A heady mix of shyness and arousal consumed her. 

He tugged at her pantyhose and she said, “Please don’t rip them this time, Penn.”

He pouted. “But pantyhose are so ugly. You have such beautiful legs. I’d much rather see you in a garter belt and stockings. I’ll bring you some. What do you say? My treat.”

She imagined wearing them for him, and his response. Her clit throbbed. “All right,” she whispered. “I’ll wear them for you.”

“Please do. I’d appreciate it so much.” He stroked her belly and her toes curled.

Penn tugged at the pantyhose again and she focused all her attention on what he was doing. He dropped to one knee as he pulled the hose down her legs, slipping them off each leg as she lifted her feet to help him. 

“Much better,” he said. He leaned in and kissed her belly. His goatee tickled her skin and she uttered a breathy little laugh. He stood up and tossed the pantyhose aside. 

Penn eased a bra strap off her shoulder and kissed the bare flesh. She moaned and whispered his name. He growled and slipped off the other bra strap. His lips brushed the skin, moving slowly from her shoulder up to her neck. She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

She was so lost in the sensations that she didn’t even notice when he undid the front hooks and removed her bra. Only when his lips captured her nipple did she realize that her bra was gone. She cried out as his tongue teased and swirled around the little nubbin of flesh.

Her legs were unsteady and she thought they wouldn’t hold her up much longer. He pulled his mouth off her nipple and looked at her, a lazy smile on his face. “Bed. Now.”

Somehow her shaky legs carried her the short distance and she lay down. She lounged on the bed, smiling up at him as she watched him shed his clothes. His movements were quick and graceful. 

Sara had never seen a man completely naked before. She caught her breath at the sight of him. His body was muscular and smooth, his skin almost as pale as marble. But her attention zeroed in on his cock. Her hand would probably just barely fit around it.

She must have really been staring, because Penn chuckled and said, “Do you approve?”

Suddenly she was very aware of her body. Only a bit of cotton stood between her and total nudity. She blushed and looked away.

He chuckled again. “You don’t have to be shy with me, Sara.”

She looked back at him and smiled. “I do, I like what I see,” she said.

“So do I.” Gracefully he slid onto the bed and took her in his arms. His cool skin pressed against hers. With a moan she returned his kiss as she embraced him tightly. His cock rubbed against her belly, leaving a smear of precum on her soft skin. 

He eased down the bed, planting kisses on her body as he went, until he reached her panties. Smiling up at her he slowly teased her folds, his long fingers tracing her outline through the thin white cotton. He varied his actions, sometimes stroking up and down, sometimes drawing little circles, and sometimes making figure eights. She gasped and pushed herself against his fingers. 

“Do you like it when I tickle you like this, Sara?” That by-now familiar smirk creased his lips. He knew damned well that she liked it. Oh lord, if his fingers could do this to her what would his tongue do?

“Sara? I asked you a question. Do you like this? If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

“No, no, I love it, please don’t stop touching me.” The words came out in a breathless rush.

“So eager.” He kissed her panty crotch. “Such an eager, naughty girl.” He slid his fingers inside her panties and slowly massaged her. She moaned and grabbed handfuls of the sheets. 

“Oh my. You’ve gotten your panties all wet. That will never do. Shall I take them off?” His throaty, teasing tone of voice was affecting her almost as strongly as his caresses. 

“Yes!” she hissed. “Please take them off, Penn.”

“Of course, Pet.” He gripped the waistband and pulled the panties down her legs. She twisted and squirmed to help him slip them off. He brought the scrap of cotton to his nose and inhaled deeply.

“Mmm,” he said. “Your scent. It’s printed on my brain now, Sara. I’ll always know it.” 

He dropped the panties on the floor, crawled back up to the top of the bed and took her in his arms again. She wrapped her arms around him. He pressed himself up against her and his cock was right at her entrance. He twisted his hips a little, rubbing the head against her. She inhaled sharply and her body tensed a little, preparing for his entry.

But he didn’t attempt to penetrate her. Instead he began rubbing himself up and down her sex, grunting a little at the contact. Her wetness spread over him, easing his way as he slipped and slid against her. His cockhead stroked her clit and her body jumped. 

He moved a little faster, grinding against her until her entire body was trembling. She arched up to meet him, groaning as his cock hit an especially sweet spot. Pleasure burst through her and her body crumpled. She twitched and jerked as Penn continued to stroke her, coaxing more pleasure from her.

At last the spasms died down and she relaxed, whimpering a little when his cock touched her clit again. Penn didn’t have to be told that she was too sensitive now. He shifted his body a little and brought his hand down to stroke himself until he groaned and she felt something wet splashing onto her belly. He shuddered and grunted as his own orgasm tore through him, then he collapsed on top of her, spent. 

For a moment or two he didn’t move and she was scared that he would suffocate her, but then he rolled off and lay beside her. “Whoo,” he said. “That was lovely.”

“So nice,” she murmured.

He looked at her, then down at her belly. “I’ve made a mess,” he said. 

He was gone from the bed before she could say anything. Her eyes lingered on his firm ass as he left the room. She lazily stretched her arms, listening to the water running in the bathroom. 

Why didn’t he try to penetrate her? She puzzled over the question for a few moments before it came to her: he probably didn’t have any condoms, so he had improvised. He did say that there were many ways to enjoy pleasure. She wondered how many more he knew.

Penn came back into the room, holding a washcloth. “Let me clean you up,” he said. He wiped the damp cloth over her body, using long, gentle strokes, from just below her breasts to the tops of her thighs. The cloth was soft and warm, just wet enough to clean her skin but not wet enough to drip water on the sheets. 

She settled back in the bed, watching him work. It felt so good, so soothing, to be cared for like this. Greg never would have done this for her.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks.” She smiled up at him.

“Where shall I put this?”

“You can just throw it in the hamper in the bathroom.”

“Okay. Be right back.”

Sara enjoyed another look at his ass as he left the room again. Would he want to play some more tonight? She would go along with whatever he wanted. 

She must have nodded off, because the next thing she knew someone was kissing her shoulder. Her body started slightly and she opened her eyes. The room was dark now and she blinked rapidly, a little disoriented. Then she smelled Penn’s scent and felt his body next to hers. “Mmmm.” She cuddled close to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“You seem very content,” he said.

“I feel very content.” She was about to say more when her jaws suddenly dropped open in a huge yawn. She tried to stifle it with her hand. “Oh God, I’m sorry. That was rude.” Her eyelids felt so heavy.

“You’re tired. You had a long week.” He kissed the top of her head. “Sleep, my sweet. You deserve it.”

“Really? You don’t want to…do anything more?” Her inexperience was showing again. Didn’t guys always want more?

He stroked her arm. “I want to do everything with you, Sara. But we don’t have to do it all in one night. We have all the time in the world to explore and play.”

“Play…hmmm…” She felt herself drifting and she let go, her head resting on Penn’s chest, her arm thrown across his body. As she dropped off she felt sure that tonight there would be no dreams.

*****

“Sara? Wake up, sweetie.” Someone was lightly caressing her shoulder. “Wake up, Sara.” The voice was soft but insistent. She knew that voice…

“Wha? Huh?” Her eyes opened slowly. The room was still dark. 

Penn stood beside the bed. He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. She turned aside, blinking rapidly in the sudden light. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, and then she looked back at him. 

He was dressed and he had put his glasses and jacket back on. She frowned, not comprehending.

He looked down at her and smiled. “I wanted to tell you, I have to go.”

“Go?” That brought her fully awake. She sat up. “Why do you have to go? What time is it anyway?”

“It’s about an hour before dawn. I have a couple of really early appointments and I need to get home so I can shower and change clothes. But I didn’t want to just walk out and leave you like I did last week.”

An ache started in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t want you to go, Penn.”

The corners of his mouth turned downward. “I wish I didn’t have to. But I must.”

“Do you want something to eat before you go? Coffee, maybe?” She was aware that she was babbling, but she just wanted to make him stay a little longer.

“No, don’t go to any trouble. I’ll grab something on the way home.”

“Okay.” She threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. “Am I going to see you again?”

“You can count on that.” He touched her chin, gently tilting her head up, and kissed her. She closed her eyes and returned the kiss with passion, gently biting his lower lip.

He leaned into the kiss for a moment, then broke away. “You’re severely tempting me right now, woman.”

“Well, that’s a switch,” she said. “You’ve been tempting me from the moment I met you.”

He touched her face again. “Tell me your number. I’ll call you later. We can make some plans for tonight if you wish.”

For a second she couldn’t remember her number. Looking at him made it hard to concentrate. She closed her eyes and was able to recite it easily.

He repeated it back. “Okay. Got it.”

She opened her eyes. “You don’t need a pen to write it down?”

“No, I’ll remember it. I’ve got one of those memories.” 

She felt suddenly certain that he was bullshitting her. She was never going to hear from him again! But then he smiled at her and the fear vanished.

He took her hand and they walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to her door. They paused, looking at each other. She remembered how nervous she had been standing in this very spot just a few hours ago.

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll call you. I promise.”

“Okay. Goodnight. Or, good morning.” She managed a smile. He smiled back at her, unlocked her door and then he was gone. 

The skin on her forehead tingled from the touch of his lips. She wanted to stand in the doorway and watch him walk to the elevator, but she was naked and she didn’t want to give some early rising neighbor a peep show. She settled for closing the door almost completely and then standing behind it, listening as his footsteps receded. 

There was a long pause. He had reached the elevator by now and was waiting for it. She closed her eyes and waited with him. The building was completely quiet and she could hear the faint mechanical hum of the elevator climbing slowly up to her floor. She pictured him standing there. Was he looking back at her door? She liked to think so.

There was a thump and a low rumble as the doors slid open. More footsteps. Another rumble as the doors closed. The hum resumed and she knew he was going away from her.

Sara gently closed the door and rested her forehead against the cool wood. Her eyes were wet.


	6. Call Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara waits for Penn's call.

Sara went back to bed after Penn’s departure, positive that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She tossed and turned for a while but finally managed to drop off just as dawn was beginning to lighten the sky. Sleep was deep and refreshing. There was a dream of Penn, but this time there was none of the explicit content that she’d experienced the last few days. 

In the dream Penn was on the far side of a vast room that looked a little like a hotel ballroom. He was wearing a tuxedo with a red carnation pinned to his lapel. He held out his hand to her, smiling. Even across the great expanse of the room his intense blue-green eyes snared hers. “Come to me, Sara,” he said. 

The urge to obey him was overwhelming. She hurried toward him, eager to feel his touch, but halfway across the room her legs suddenly didn’t want to move. With each step her legs grew heavier, as if each one had been chained to a hundred pound weight. As her progress slowed she struggled harder to reach Penn, gasping for breath, her muscles aching from the strain. The entire time Penn stayed where he was, holding out his hand to her, still smiling and asking her to come to him. She stretched out her arm, straining, desperate to close the gap between them. Just as her fingertips brushed his, his body became hazy and indistinct, slowly disappearing like the Cheshire Cat. Panicking, she lunged for him, but he was gone and her hands grasped at empty air where he had been.

Her eyes opened and she blinked up at the ceiling. Daylight filled the room. The dream was already beginning to fade, but one or two images still clung to her. The main thing she remembered was struggling to reach Penn as the heaviness in her legs slowed her down. What was the significance of that? Maybe it reflected her mixed feelings about him?

She desired him and she enjoyed the pleasure he gave her, but a part of her was still uneasy about him. After all, he was the reason why she’d had to cover up her neck all week. What he had done that night came pretty darn close to assault. And because of that she had been so sure that she never wanted to see him again. So sure that she never wanted him to touch her again. But those certainties had melted away when they started talking outside her building. 

Somehow he had the ability to explain away the things that disturbed her. She had never met someone who was so compelling and persuasive. That odd moment when he had asked her to show him her neck was a good example. Why hadn’t she told him to get lost? She would have been completely justified in doing that, and much more. And yet she had complied. It was as if he had put a spell on her. 

She didn’t know what kind of an artist he was, but she felt sure that he would make one hell of a salesman. 

Her desire for him was growing stronger, and that could become a problem. He made her feel things she had never felt before, and the intensity of these feelings scared her a little. She had never met anyone like him. He moved and talked like a man who was used to being obeyed, and he seemed to like taking control in bed. Part of her liked it too. But if she fell in love with him, would she be giving up too much control? 

Well, she wasn’t going to figure out these things by lying in bed all day. A glance at her clock told her that it was a little before ten-thirty. She yawned and stretched, reluctant to leave the comfy bed. She liked the way the soft sheets caressed her bare skin. Sleeping naked was a new and sensuous experience for her. It made her feel a little naughty. Usually she wore pajamas to bed. What would Penn think if he saw her in her grey flannel pj’s with the blue kittens? He would probably react with the same disdain he had shown for her pantyhose. The thought made her giggle.

With another yawn she pushed herself out of bed. In rapid succession she showered, dressed, and changed her sheets before sitting down to have a quick breakfast. She nibbled on a cold blueberry Pop Tart as she listened to the news on the radio and sketched out a grocery list. Her head was wonderfully clear. She felt that she could tackle anything. This was good, because after doing almost nothing last weekend she had to catch up on her errands. 

She would start by dropping off some laundry at the Wash-O-Rama two blocks over. Next was a quick stop at Walgreens to pick up a prescription for her thyroid medication, and then she would go grocery shopping. Maybe later she’d touch base with Trish. All of this should keep her busy for a couple of hours. It would help pass the time while she waited for Penn to call.

He would call, wouldn’t he? He had promised. She felt a flutter of anxiety, which she chalked up to a Greg flashback. When things started to go bad in their relationship he started playing head games with her. One of his favorites was promising to call and then never following through, leaving her hanging all night. When she confronted him he always had an excuse: he was “charging his phone” or he “got hung up at work”, or some lame story like that. He never apologized; in fact, he accused her of overreacting when she got angry with him. 

But Penn was not Greg. She had to keep that in mind. It would not be fair to punish him for Greg’s sins. Even so, she couldn’t help wondering if there would come a time when Penn would drop all pretense of charm and turn into a jerk as well. His little vampire fetish proved that he had some rather _unexpected_ quirks. What else was waiting to be discovered? More kinks? Or were there darker things that she was better off not knowing?

Okay, this was why she needed to keep busy. She had to prevent her mind from turning on itself. Sara finished the last of the Pop Tart and went to gather her laundry.

*****

Sara had a little shopping cart that was perfect for running errands. She dropped off her bag of laundry for next day pickup, got her prescription, and then headed over to Key Food on Third Avenue. She moved quickly through the aisles, alert for bargains, and soon filled up her cart. She was virtuous, sticking to healthy things like chicken and fish and fresh vegetables. But when she reached the frozen food aisle she couldn’t resist picking up a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie. A little guilty pleasure was okay once in a while, she reasoned. Her mind flashed on what she had done with Penn last night. Well, maybe more than once in a while. She smiled.

As she looked over the items in her cart, she began to think about the meals she might fix during the coming week. She loved to cook. A few months ago Trish had thrown a “Girls Night Out” dinner party, where each of them brought a dish and everything was served buffet-style. Val still raved about the chicken and dumplings Sara had brought that night. Maybe she could make that dish for Penn.

No, wait, first she had to find out what he liked to eat. Maybe he didn’t even like chicken. Maybe he was a vegan. But once she knew what he liked, she could cook a romantic dinner for the two of them. A happy little fantasy took root in her brain. She imagined the scene: candles, wine, maybe some soft music. And after the meal she would take the initiative and kiss him. She imagined the taste of wine on his lips, and the feel of his hands roving all over her body.

Goosebumps broke out on her skin and she looked around guiltily, as if people could see what she was thinking. Better save the racy fantasies until she got home, she chided herself. 

Her shopping was done anyway, so she headed toward the checkout. Her thoughts returned to a safer topic: the things she would like to know about Penn. Where was he from? Did he have brothers and sisters? What kinds of movies did he like? What did he do for fun, besides pretending to be a vampire? And if he was an artist as he claimed, would he let her see any of his work? So many questions.

*****

She took her time wheeling her little cart home and she was back in her apartment by one-thirty. Had Penn finished his appointments by now? She took her phone out of her purse and checked it, even though she hadn’t heard it ring. No messages. She set it on the kitchen table and willed it to ring as she set about unpacking her groceries and putting them away.

The familiar ritual of putting things in their place was soothing. As she worked her mind once again drifted into fantasyland. This time she imagined bringing Penn to her parents’ home for Thanksgiving dinner. Her parents would be aloof at first, but she had no doubt that Penn would be at his charming best. He would probably win over her mother, because she loved polite, well-mannered young men. Her father would be a tougher sell. She didn’t date often in high school, but when she did her parents insisted upon meeting the boy. Using these rare dates as a guide, she guessed that her father would be polite but cold. First he would test Penn’s grip with his handshake, then he would interrogate him about his knowledge of sports, especially football. For the finale he would inquire about Penn’s “intentions” towards Sara ‒ meaning marriage, of course. If he survived this ordeal, Penn would probably win her dad’s grudging approval. The fact that he liked Scotch might help them bond. Dad liked good single malt. She must remember to bring him a bottle next time she visited. 

Even with the prospect of her father grilling Penn, the Thanksgiving fantasy was fun to think about. Having him there would make for good moral support when her parents started the inevitable nagging and criticism. If things got bad he could hold her hand under the table. 

It was too soon to propose the Thanksgiving visit now. She didn’t want him to think that she was trying to rush things. She could afford to wait a little while. They still had two months until the holiday. Maybe about a month from now she would casually inquire about his holiday plans. She’d have to find out if he was spending the day with his family. Did he have family? She couldn’t remember if he’d ever mentioned the subject. They’d talked so much at Trish’s party and then at the bar, but she could remember very little of what he’d said about himself other than the fact that he was an artist who lived in the hippie bohemian part of town. 

Well, now that they were seeing each other, she could really get to know him. She could start by finding out if he liked chicken and dumplings. But she wasn’t going to find out anything if he didn’t call. Why the hell hadn’t she asked for his number last night? 

*****

The afternoon went by so slowly she was sure that all time had stopped. She tried to sit still and read a book, but quit when she realized that she had read the same page three times and had no idea what it said. She thought about watching a movie, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on that either. 

Desperate to hear another human voice, she grabbed her phone and called Trish. 

“Hi hon. I can’t talk too long. Matt and I are going to a movie and then dinner.” 

“Oh, okay. I won’t keep you then.”

“No, no. I’ve got a few minutes. So what’s up? Val told me you weren’t feeling too well.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t.” She vaguely remembered the brief conversation from last night. “I’m better now, though.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“The strangest thing happened when I got home. You’ll never guess who I heard from.”

“Oh, don’t make me guess. Who?”

“Penn. You know, the guy I met at your party?”

“Really? But I thought nothing was happening there.”

“So did I. But we reconnected last night.”

“Reconnected, huh?” Trish drew out the word a little, made it sound like a double entendre. Sara blushed a little. “No wonder you’re feeling better. That’s great. Congrats, hon.”

“Thanks.” Sara felt a warm sensation in her chest. Just talking about this made her feel good. But she couldn’t talk about her deeper worries. It was too difficult to put them into words. And she couldn’t make Trish understand her uneasiness without revealing the biting incident. Trish wouldn’t be nearly so enthusiastic about her “reconnection” if she knew about that. Most likely she’d tell Sara to run away from Penn as fast as she could. 

“We might get together again tonight,” she said. “I’m waiting for him to call me.”

“Waiting? Why don’t you call him?”

Sara didn’t respond.

“You did get his number, didn’t you?”

“Uh, no.” 

A sigh from Trish. Sara knew what that sigh meant. She braced herself for one of her friend’s lectures. Good lord, it was like talking to her mother sometimes.

“Oh sweetie, what am I always telling you?”

In spite of herself Sara chuckled. “I don’t know, Trish. You’ve told me so many things it’s kind of hard to keep track of them all.”

“Don’t be a wise ass. No, what I’m always telling you is, don’t give them all the power. Remember now?”

“Oh yeah. You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Penn will call you, I don’t doubt it. But he’s a man, they see these things differently. Maybe he’s thinking, I’ll call her after the game, or I’ll call her after I have something to eat, or I’ll call her after I see my buddy. He knows you’ll be waiting for him, so there’s no urgency for him. Men don’t understand how it feels to wait for that call because the way society is set up, they never have to be the ones who wait. But if you have his number, you can call him if you want to, anytime you want to. Take some of that power back, got it?”

“Got it.” But Sara didn’t really understand what power had to do with dating and romance. Trish sometimes seemed to take the phrase “battle of the sexes” a little too seriously. Then again, she and Matt had been together for over two years and were practically engaged, while she, Sara, had the Greg debacle in her recent past, followed by several months of living almost like a nun. So maybe she could learn a lesson or two from Trish.

“Promise me you’ll get that number next time you talk to him, okay, Sara?”

“Okay, I will.”

“And call him once in a while. I’m not telling you to stalk him or call him fifty times a day. But just keep yourself in his thoughts, see?”

“Yes, I see.”

“All right, sweetie. I’ve got to go, but you have a good time with Penn.” There was a beat, then Trish said, “Say, why don’t we do a double date one night? Me and Matt and you and Penn. Dinner and a movie, maybe? Or you guys can come to our place and we’ll order takeout from Hot Wok. Matt can break out one of his Mystery Science Theater DVDs. Those are always good for a laugh. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great. I’ll run it by Penn.”

“You do that and get back to me. We’ll set something up. It’ll be fun. Okay, Matt’s pointing at his watch. I’d better go if we want to make the theater before the previews. You know how he loves the previews. I’ll catch you later, hon.”

“Okay, sweetie. Talk to you later. Have fun.”

“Thanks!” And with that Trish was gone.

Sara put the phone down on the table and then stared at it for several seconds, willing it to ring. But it just sat there on the table, completely indifferent to her wishes. Finally she sighed, grabbed it and headed to the bedroom. She fired up her laptop, keeping the phone within easy reach on her desk. 

First she checked her email, then she went to Facebook. Nothing exciting was going on there, so she went to YouTube and watched some music videos. Finally she went to Pogo and played her favorite card games. That held her attention for a while and the next time she looked up it was after five-thirty. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d had nothing to eat since the Pop Tart that morning. Might as well make dinner. She felt a little dejected that Penn hadn’t called. She had been hoping that they could have dinner together.

She fixed a simple dinner of baked chicken breast, rice and a salad, washing it down with a cold beer. All through the meal her phone sat on the table, inches away. She glanced at it from time to time, certain that it was mocking her. By the time she was done eating she had begun to think that Trish had a point about taking some of the power back. If Penn ever called – no, _when_ he called, of course he would call – she was going to get his damned number. She did not want to spend another day waiting on tenterhooks like this. 

She cleared the table and started washing the dishes. She had just gotten her hands wet when her phone rang. Cursing silently she wiped her hands on a dish towel and grabbed the phone. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Hello, beautiful.” Penn’s voice caressed her ear. She shivered. 

“Penn. Hi.” She strove to sound casual, but her voice cracked a little bit.

“How was your day?”

“Oh, busy. How was yours? How did your appointments go?”

“They were so boring. I would have preferred to be with you. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I want to see you tonight.”

She swallowed hard and said, “That would be great. What would you like to do? Dinner? A movie?”

“I thought I would just come over. We could have some fun.” The way he said those last words made her shiver.

“I’d like that,” she said.

“Great. I can be there at about nine, how’s that?”

“Nine is good.” She glanced at her watch. Ugh, two hours to wait! But she had been waiting all day. Another couple of hours wouldn’t kill her.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then, beautiful. I’m bringing a little surprise for you. I can’t wait to see your reaction.”

“Oh, what did you get me?” She felt as eager as a little kid.

“Well, if I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it? But I think you’ll like it.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

“It won’t be long. I’ll see you in a bit, beautiful.”

“See you,” she murmured. Penn disconnected and she decided that his voice calling her “beautiful” was her new favorite sound.

She swiftly finished the dishes then hurried off to the bedroom to change her clothes. 

She could hardly wait to see him and feel his touch once more. What would he be like tonight? She been intimate with Penn twice now, and each time he had been a different man sexually. She was too inexperienced to know if this was normal for men. Who was the real Penn – the wannabe vampire who had bitten her or the gentle, attentive lover who had pleasured her so skillfully last night? Which one would show up tonight?


	7. Fashion Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn has a little surprise for Sara.

The buzzer rang at exactly nine o’clock. Sara went to the intercom. “Yes?” Trying not to let her voice betray her excitement.

“Guess who?” Penn’s silky voice sounded a little tinny coming through the intercom. 

“C’mon up.” She pressed the button to let him up. All at once her body seemed too alive, humming with electricity. She stood by the door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Part of her wanted to go meet him at the elevator. After a moment she rejected the idea. It would make her look too eager, and it probably fit Trish’s definition of giving him power. She stayed put.

The faint rumble of the elevator doors opening made her pulse race. Unhurried footsteps in the hall gradually grew louder until they stopped outside her door. There was a brief pause then three sharp raps sounded on the wood.

Even though she had been expecting his knock the sound still made Sara jump. Swiftly she undid the locks. She grabbed the knob, took a deep breath, and pulled open the door.

Penn stood there, grinning broadly. He wore the same black jacket and pants, but this time his shirt was dark blue. The first couple of buttons were undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his pale throat. “Hello, beautiful.”

“Hi.” Somehow she resisted the urge to squeal like a schoolgirl. Instead she kissed him lightly on the lips. “Come on in.”

“Thank you.” As she stood aside to let him enter she noticed that he carried a midnight blue shopping bag. Was it her surprise? She closed the door and turned to face him, smiling.

“Did you miss me?” he said.

“I sure did. I thought this day would never end.”

“Me too. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” 

Emotion swelled inside her and she didn’t trust herself to say what she was thinking. Instead she took refuge in politeness. “Can – can I hang up your jacket?” 

“Always the perfect hostess.” He gracefully shrugged out of the jacket and handed it to her. “Thank you, luv.” 

She headed for the closet. This time she had no trouble locating a hanger. As she hung up the jacket that sexy scent drifted up from the material again and she had to force herself to shut the closet door.

She turned to Penn and he held up the bag. “My little surprise. You’re curious, aren’t you?”

“I’m dying to see what you got me, Penn. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.” She giggled, a little self-consciously. 

“All in good time, pet. Let’s relax a little first, shall we?”

“Okay. Would you like a drink? Maybe a snack? I’ve got cheese and crackers.”

“I ate earlier, but I’d love a glass of water.”

“Coming right up. Make yourself at home.” 

He chuckled as he made his way into the living room. She frowned. What was so funny? 

In the kitchen she took two glasses from the cabinet, tumbled a generous amount of ice cubes into each one, and filled them with water from the pitcher she always kept in the fridge. The tinkling of ice cubes heralded her arrival as she walked down the hall and into the living room, a glass in each hand.

Penn sat on the couch in the same spot where he had sat last night. The plastic bag was next to him. Smiling, she handed him a glass. He thanked her and she sat down beside him. There was barely a gap between them. She marveled at how much more comfortable she felt with him now.

“Shall we drink to something?” she said.

“How about to us?”

She grinned. “So we’re officially an ‘us’?”

He grinned back at her. “I think we are.”

“Great. To us, then.” She held out her glass. 

Penn clinked his glass against hers. “To us.” He took a long drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed. 

She drank some water, grateful for something to do with her hands. The icy drink was refreshing. She hadn’t realized how dry her throat was until now. 

They didn’t speak for a few moments. There was no sound apart from the musical rattle of ice cubes as they sipped their water. Finally she said, “So, what appointments did you have today?”

He shrugged. “Business stuff. Mostly having to do with agents and galleries.”

“Galleries? You’re going to have a show for your work?” 

“Possibly. Nothing’s definite.”

If he had an art exhibition coming up he would invite her. She had a brief vision of herself wearing a little black dress, holding a glass of white wine, surrounded by a gaggle of artsy types. Her stomach fluttered. She knew nothing about modern art. Could she hold her own with that kind of crowd? Would they dismiss her as a hick from the sticks? Maybe she could invite Trish and Matt. They loved art galleries and they could help her navigate that world. 

_Easy_ , she reminded herself. He had just said that nothing was definite.

She said, “I’d love to see some of your work.”

Penn swirled the water in his glass. “I’d love to show you. But I’m a little insecure.”

She laughed softly. “I find it hard to believe that you’re insecure about anything.”

He took another drink, looking at her over the rim of his glass. “I just want to be sure it’s perfect before I let you see it. Your opinion means a lot to me.”

A sudden surge of joy made her feel as if she might explode. “It does?”

“Of course. You’re smart and sensitive. I want you to see the very best of me.”

“Ah, you’re a perfectionist. Well, I’m not fussy, Penn. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I’m just curious about your work.” 

He smiled at her. “I’ll show you. Soon. And I’ll answer all your questions about me. I want you to know me, Sara. But I have to be sure of you first.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re quite the enigma. Do you work for the CIA or something?” She tried to use a light tone, but she wasn’t really joking. This was the second time in as many days he had deflected her curiosity about him. What was the big mystery?

He shook his head. “I’m just being cautious, that’s all. I’ve been burned in the past, and I learned the hard way not to let people in right away.”

“Oh.” So he had heartbreak in his past too. A bad breakup? She could relate.

“If it makes you feel any better Sara, I have a good feeling about you and me. I think we’ve got something special. I think I will be able to let you in.”

She smiled. “It does make me feel better. But I can wait. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Penn nodded. “Very good.” He raised his glass and took the last couple of swallows of water. He placed the glass on the floor by his feet and picked up the blue bag. “And on that note, I think this is a good time to give you your surprise.” 

He showed her the bag. The words “Joie De Vivre” were written in silver script on the side. Her eyes widened. 

He noted her expression and smiled. “I take it you’re familiar with this place?”

“It’s a lingerie boutique,” she said. Just saying the words gave her a tingle. “Very upscale. I see their magazine ads all the time.” 

“After last night I couldn’t stop thinking about you wearing some sexy lingerie. I would love to help you kick your addiction to white cotton and pantyhose. So I thought I’d get you started.” He held out the bag. “I can’t wait to see this on you.” His eyes gleamed.

She put her glass down on the floor and accepted the bag from him. “Wow,” she said. “I don’t know if I can accept this. It seems…extravagant.”

“You certainly can accept it. It’s a gift, Sara.”

Her mother’s voice spoke up in her mind, as loud and clear as if the woman were sitting on the couch with them: _If a man buys you an expensive gift, he expects something from you in return._

“Is there a problem, sweetie?”

“I don’t know if I feel okay with you spending so much money on me.”

Penn snickered. “It’s not as if I’ll have to eat cat food, Sara. Money isn’t a problem for me. I want you to have this. Please accept it.”

She fell silent, tracing the store’s logo on the bag. Penn watched her intently. 

She was concerned, but not about his finances. What if her mother was right? Would Penn expect sex from her now? Was he that kind of guy? She didn’t know him well enough to say. And did it really matter anyway? She wanted to go to bed with him whether he gave her gifts or not. And maybe he had no ulterior motive at all. 

Bottom line: going to bed with him was her decision, and her mother didn’t get a vote. So why not just relax and enjoy his present?

The tension inside her gave way and she looked up at him, smiling. “Okay, I accept. I really don’t know what else to say except thank you, Penn.” Her voice cracked a little and her eyes misted.

“Say you’ll wear it for me. Now.”

She swallowed hard. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll wear it for you.”

He grinned. “Wonderful.”

She rose from the couch, clutching the bag tightly. “Then I guess we should go to the bedroom.”

“Lead the way, my dear.” 

Her body felt oddly weightless as she walked toward the bedroom. She had no idea what Penn had bought for her, but her mind was buzzing with possibilities. 

In the bedroom she turned on the light and placed the bag on the bed. She reached inside and pulled out a square box the same midnight blue color as the bag, embossed with the “Joie De Vivre” logo on the lid. Carefully she laid the box on the bed, as if it contained an explosive. 

Penn stood beside her, watching her every move. “Go ahead,” he murmured. “Open it.”

She took the lid off the box and parted the tissue paper. When she saw what lay beneath she caught her breath. Gently she took hold of the garment and lifted it out of the box, holding it up against her body. 

It was a short black nightgown – _very_ short, she noted. It would show quite a bit of leg. The material was soft and silky to the touch. Its shoulder straps were spaghetti-thin, and the top was made of delicate lace that would leave nothing to the imagination. 

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s so pretty.”

“There’s more in the box. Take a look.”

She laid the nightie on the bed and went back to the box. She pulled out a black garter belt, looked at it, and put it aside. Last were two packages of stockings, also black. 

“No panties?” she teased.

“No need,” he teased right back. “So what do you think?”

“Wow,” she said. “This all looks so sinful.” She turned to look at Penn. Her cheeks felt warm.

“Sinful was what I had in mind,” he said.

“I’ve never worn anything like this.” She smiled, thinking of her grey flannel kitty pajamas.

“I guessed as much. But I know you’ll look great in it.”

Might as well find out if he was right. Her skin tingled as she stripped off her clothes and shoes. She was hyper-aware of Penn’s gaze upon her and forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand, trying to keep the shyness at bay. Why should she feel shy? He had seen her naked last night. But last night he had stripped her as if he was unwrapping a present. Tonight she was undressing for him, displaying herself for him. It wasn’t the same thing at all.

Soon she was nude, her clothing in a pile on the floor. She looked at the lingerie, unsure of how to begin. Penn spoke up at her side: “I can help you, Sara.”

“Thanks, I think I need some help.”

“Start with the garter belt,” he said. “I’ll show you how to fasten it.”

She picked it up and stared at it. It was made of black lace, with a little red bow at each hip. Straps, four in all, dangled from the belt. “See, it has hooks just like a bra,” said Penn. “And the straps are adjustable, just like a bra. The easiest way to put it on is to fasten it around your waist with the hooks in front, then you pull it around so they’re in the back.”

She did as he said and was pleased at how easy it was. The belt fit perfectly around her waist.

“Now the stockings.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and opened a package of stockings. She caressed the silk, thrilling at the sensation. Carefully she smoothed one up her leg, then the other. She looked down at her legs and wiggled her toes. The stockings had reinforced toes, wide lacy bands around the tops, and thin black seams running up the backs of the legs. Her legs looked longer, leaner, and definitely sexier. 

She looked up at Penn and saw the hungry expression on his face. “Nice,” he said. “Stand up and turn around, Sara. I want to make sure those seams are straight.”

She stood and turned away from him. He knelt behind her and his cool hands settled on her ankles. Slowly they glided up the backs of her legs, all the way to the tops of her stockings. Gently he caressed her upper thighs around the stocking tops. She squirmed and giggled.

“Keep still, young lady.” Penn’s words were stern, but there was a hint of humor in his tone.

His hands moved back down her legs to her ankles then slowly made the return trip up the backs of her legs. She sighed and closed her eyes.

He made yet another slow trip down and then up her legs. After he returned to the tops of her thighs again she said, “Are they straight enough for you?” She was a little breathless.

“Just being thorough.”

“Sure you are. I think you just wanted an excuse to fondle my legs.”

He laughed. “You found me out. But can you blame me when your legs look so hot?”

She glanced down at her legs. “You’re right. I can’t blame you. They do look pretty hot.”

“There, see? And the seams are perfect, by the way.” He rose and put his arms around her from behind. She sighed and gently pushed into him. Her bottom brushed his groin and she smirked, wiggling a little against his bulge.

He held her tighter to him. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. “Teasing me like that. Keep that up and I’ll have to spank you.”

His words set off a tingle in her clit. Suddenly all she could think of was lying across his lap while he smacked her ass with those large, powerful hands. Where had that image come from? She had read spanking stories online and in erotic novels. They had excited her, but she had never imagined herself in those scenes.

It must be the lingerie. It was giving her ideas.

Penn kissed her shoulder and then released her. She turned around to face him, blushing slightly. 

He smirked at her as if she knew what she had been thinking. “Let’s attach those stockings.” He touched the garter strap that lay against her thigh. “See the nub? You put that under the stocking, and then you put this part with the clasp over it and pull down.” He attached the clip to the stocking and tugged on it slightly. “See? It’s locked now. That’s not so hard, is it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Want to try the other leg?”

“Okay.” She copied his actions and felt a flash of pride as the stocking fastened. 

“Good job,” he said. “I’ll take care of the straps in back. They can be a little trickier than the front.” He moved behind her and swiftly fastened first one leg, then the other. He paused, and she could feel his stare on her skin. 

“Mmm,” he said. “Lovely.” He stroked the back of her thigh. “Now put on the nightie.”

She picked up the gown from the bed and slid it over her head. The soft material caressed her skin as it slipped over her body. She ran her hands over the gown. It was much shorter than she had first thought, stopping well before her knees. 

She looked up at Penn. “What do you think?”

He looked her over from head to toe. “I think you could be a model for Joie De Vivre.” His gaze met hers. “Do you have heels?”

“Yes, I have a pair of black pumps.”

“Put them on. They’ll complete the outfit.”

“Okay.” She went to her closet, found the shoes and brought them back to the bed. She sat down and slipped them on, then stood up and took a few steps. She didn’t wear heels often because they weren’t very comfortable. But she could wear them for a few minutes in the bedroom if it made Penn happy. 

Penn sat down on the bed, grinning at her. “Strut your stuff for me, beautiful. Do your little turn on the catwalk.”

She giggled and pranced across the floor, heels clicking as she progressed from one end of the room to the other. With each step she got more into this little fashion show, her hips swaying as she sashayed around the room. She reached the bedroom door and looked over her shoulder at him, licking her lips. He was watching her with rapt attention. She turned around, winked at him, and suddenly flipped up the hem of the nightie, flashing him quickly before letting the garment fall again. His eyes widened, and she blew him a kiss. 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.” She smiled and winked at him again. 

The full-length mirror caught her eye and she strolled up to it. She lingered, studying her reflection. The nightie settled about mid-thigh. Cream-colored skin peeked out between the hem and her stocking tops. The sheer top molded itself perfectly to her breasts, as if the garment had been designed with her in mind. Her pale pink nipples showed clearly, a little stiff from rubbing against the lace. The friction felt…very nice. 

She posed this way and that, her smile growing broader as she admired herself from various angles. Who was this sexy woman looking back at her? Her upbringing had taught her that only a cheap, trashy woman would wear this kind of outfit – a trollop, in the immortal words of her mother. But there was nothing cheap or trashy about this outfit. It was well crafted from good material, clearly designed to enhance a woman’s natural attributes. 

Sara didn’t feel like a trollop at all. Looking at herself through Penn’s eyes, sensing his honest appreciation of her body, she felt like a sexy, desirable woman for the first time in her life. Her face was warm, but not from embarrassment.

She turned to face Penn. He smiled at her. The bulge in his slacks told her that he liked what he was seeing. 

“These clothes fit me perfectly, Penn. How did you get the sizes right? Did you go through my underwear drawer while I was asleep?”

He laughed. “The salespeople at Joie De Vivre deserve all the credit. I’m a frequent customer, so they know me pretty well. Usually I just describe the woman I’m buying a gift for, and they find just the right thing. It’s like magic.”

A frequent customer. That meant he’d bought gifts for other girlfriends. Maybe these girlfriends had also given him fashion shows. Among other things.

Hot jealousy pricked her and she squashed it. _Of course he’s had other girlfriends, dummy. Did you expect him to be a virgin?_

She managed a smile. “Magic is the right word. I feel transformed.”

“You look like a fallen angel. Ready and eager to be corrupted.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

He patted his thigh. “Come, Sara. Sit on Daddy’s lap. Tell him how much you enjoyed your present.”

She giggled. “Daddy?”

He cocked his head and regarded her, a mischievous smile creasing his lips. “Yes. Now come here, unless you want Daddy to put you over his knee.”

The new promise of a spanking made her tingle again. Part of her wanted to see if he would actually do it, but another part decided that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to test him. Instead she came to him and slid onto his lap, putting her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder. Once again she couldn’t resist wiggling against his hardness.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. He put one arm around her while his other hand came to rest on her thigh. She moaned softly as the hand slipped under her nightie and moved slowly upward. Her legs parted slightly at his touch. “So, do you like your present, Sara?” His hand crept farther up. 

“It’s beautiful, Penn,” she said softly. “I love the way it looks on me. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.” His fingers lightly stroked her inner thigh. “It was as much a gift for me as it was for you.”

She moved her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “Oh really?”

“Yes. I liked watching you strut around the room.”

She caressed his cheek. “I never knew I had that in me.”

“I’m glad I helped bring it out,” he said. His hand reached the join of her thighs. She made a small sound and leaned in to kiss him. Her eyes closed and she quickly lost herself in the kiss, oblivious to everything but the press of his lips against hers and the soft teasing moves of his fingers between her legs. 

Abruptly his hand left her crotch. Before she could protest his hold tightened, one arm around her shoulders and the other around her legs. Suddenly her body was lifted into the air. Her eyes snapped open and she squealed in delight, grabbing onto his neck for dear life. “Penn! Oh my God what are you _doing_?” 

Penn laughed and quickly spun around with her in his arms – once, twice. She kicked her legs and one of the high heels flew off. Then he came to a stop and gently laid her on the bed.

She looked up at him, breathing fast, as he swept the box and bag and wrappings onto the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt, smiling, never taking his eyes off her. 

“I had no idea you were so strong,” she said. 

He winked at her and slipped off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. “You’ve just discovered one of my secrets,” he said.


	8. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the "fashion show", Penn and Sara become more intimate.

Sara lounged on the bed, a little breathless from Penn lifting and carrying her. She couldn’t believe how easily he had picked her up, as if she weighed no more than a sheet of paper. It was thrilling, like something out of a romantic movie. She had never imagined that such a thing would happen to her.

Penn whipped off his glasses and placed them on the bedside table. He smirked at her as he stripped off his clothes and shoes. “You look delicious,” he said. 

She giggled. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“If they could have seen you like this, they would have said it.” Naked, he climbed into bed and settled on top of her. Slowly he lowered his head to her breasts. His tongue teased her nipple through the lace of her nightie, making it fully erect. He molded his lips around the little knob of flesh and gently grazed it again and again with his teeth until she thought she would go crazy. Her arms wrapped around him to press him more tightly to her.

He moved to her other breast, tonguing and lightly teasing the nipple with his teeth just as he had done with her other breast. It occurred to her that he might damage the lace if he kept using his teeth that way, but it felt too good for her to ask him to stop. She stroked his hair and whispered his name. He growled deep in his throat, a raw, primal sound that thrilled her. 

Slowly he moved down her body, caressing and kissing as he went. His body moved with lithe, fluid motions like a snake. When he reached the other end of the bed he knelt at her feet, lightly trailing his fingers down her leg. His eyes fixed on hers. “You seem to have lost a shoe.”

She wiggled her toes. “Does that make me Cinderella?”

He caressed her leg again and chuckled. “I hope not, because I’d make a terrible Prince Charming.”

What a strange thing to say. He had certainly been quite charming tonight. But any response she might have made died in her throat as he ran his fingers down her leg to her foot, where he carefully removed her other shoe and let it drop to the floor. He took her foot in both hands and gently massaged it. His thumbs pressed into the base of her toes and then worked outward, using gentle circular motions all along the bottom of her foot.

Delightful sensations radiated up her leg and went straight to her core. “Oooh.” She moaned softly and arched her back. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he said. “I could touch you anywhere and it would excite you.” 

She made a small sound of agreement. He raised her leg a little and bent his head to plant a kiss on the sole of her foot. She smiled down at him and noticed that the hem of her nightie had ridden up a little. He had seen it too, and his eyes were focused on the place between her thighs. He wore a hungry, eager expression.

“Now do you see why I didn’t buy you panties?” he said. “They’d only end up on the floor, all ripped to shreds.”

She giggled. “You are a bad boy.”

His grin widened. “You have no idea, woman.” 

Something about those words and that smile and the way he looked at her made her shiver. All at once she had to fight the urge to pull down the nightie and cover as much of herself as possible. 

She didn’t fully understand the impulse. She had been naked with him last night and she was clothed tonight (well, sort of clothed), but she felt more exposed now. He was seeing her in a way that no man ever had. It was exciting, confusing, and almost too intimate to bear.

“So lovely,” Penn said. He kissed her sole again and her moment of anxiety vanished. Slowly he brought her foot down and pressed it to his cock. He moaned softly as he moved her foot up and down on him. She couldn’t take her eyes off what he was doing. 

“You like feet?” she asked softly.

“I like every part of a woman’s body,” he said. “Especially _your_ body.” He caressed her instep and the ticklish sensation made her giggle. Her toes curled involuntarily and he pressed her foot against him, letting out another groan. 

He held her like that for a moment or two, and then he sighed. “I’d better quit this before I soil your lovely stocking.” He released her foot and she lowered her leg. He grinned at her. His eyes were that deep dark blue she associated with stormy emotions. 

“I’ve been dying to taste you,” he said. “Will you let me?”

For a second Sara didn’t understand what he meant, and then it hit her. She blushed at what he wanted to do – and at her desire for him to do it. “Yes,” she whispered.

He ran his fingers up the insides of her thighs and her legs parted. She swallowed hard and watched him lower his head to her center. Then his lips touched her there, and she felt as if her heart might stop.

With his thumbs he slowly spread her lips a little. His tongue flicked out to very gently touch her folds and she moaned. He moved in for another taste, his soft tongue slowly lapping her with broad flat strokes from bottom to top and back again. 

He looked up at her as he licked her, watching her face as if memorizing it. She stared back at him, intent on what he was doing between her legs. 

His tongue moved slowly, lazily along her pussy lips as if he had nothing but time to play with her. He licked all around her clit but didn’t touch it directly. He glanced up at her and winked before moving down to kiss her inner thighs, brushing his goatee against the soft skin. She let out a sound halfway between a giggle and a squeal. 

How long would he make her wait before he touched her clit? Was he going to make her beg? Yeah, probably. 

Leisurely he moved back to her pussy and continued exploring her with his tongue. With each lick her clit craved attention. Her head rolled from side to side on the pillow.

“Knew you’d taste sweet,” he growled. His voice vibrated through her in delightful little ripples. 

“Oh God, Penn,” she moaned. “Please.”

He raised his head slightly to look at her. “Please what?”

“Touch me there.”

He looked puzzled. “But I am touching you there, sweetie. I’m licking your pretty little pussy like a lollipop. Is there something specific that you’d like me to do?”

“Don’t make me say it. You know what I want.”

“No, I have no idea. Tell me what you want.”

Embarrassment and frustration blasted her. “I – I can’t say it.” Her voice was raw with need.

He lightly stroked her inner thigh. “Sara, I’m not a mind reader. If you want me to do something for you, just ask me. I’ll do anything you like, but I have to know what it is first.” He caressed the soft fuzz of hair on her pubic mound.

She bit her lip and gave him a pleading look. He smiled back at her, trying for a guileless expression but not quite making it. There was a glint in his eye that gave him away. He was teasing her! She loved it and hated it at the same time.

“Sara, I want to please you. What do you want me to do for you? Tell me.” He lowered his head and tongued her folds again. His eyes burned into hers. She still hesitated, struggling with the words. He stiffened his tongue and slipped it inside her, quickly moving it in and out like a small cock. She groaned and her breathing quickened.

Sexual shyness went to war with her desire for him – and got clobbered. She closed her eyes and said, “My – my clit. Touch my clit, Penn. Kiss it. Lick it. _Please_.”

“Oh, is that what you wanted? Of course I’ll play with your clit, dear.” He stroked her mound again and she opened her eyes to see that not-innocent expression again. “Now was that so hard?” 

_Actually, yes_. But before she could speak all conscious thought dissolved, swept away by the sensation of his tongue gently caressing her button. She had never felt anything like it. His tongue was so much softer than her fingers or the toys she sometimes used on herself. And a lot more flexible. She loved the way his tongue swirled around her clit in ever-decreasing circles until he gently flicked the tip. 

Her hands didn’t want to keep still; they moved on the bed with quick, nervous energy. Small keening noises erupted from her with each swipe of Penn’s tongue. Every now and then he looked up at her. The heat and hunger in his eyes excited her even more. He slid a finger inside her, moving slowly in and out as he continued to lick her. The sensations made her gasp and clutch the sheets.

Her legs trembled and she lost all sense of herself as she began to grind on his face, silently begging for the finish. Penn redoubled his efforts, sucking on her clit while sliding his middle finger into her. He curled his finger inside her, pressing and rubbing firmly. 

Her entire body flushed hot and she yelped as her orgasm erupted. Penn kept licking and fingering as her orgasm pulsed on and on. At length the feelings subsided and she was suddenly too sensitive. She reached out and tapped him on the head. “No more,” she whimpered.

He pulled away and moved back up the bed until he was next to her. She turned on her side to face him. She couldn’t say anything just yet, just focused on catching her breath. Her thigh muscles twitched as aftershocks raced through her body. Penn wrapped her in his arms, kissing her deeply. She responded, tasting herself on his lips. 

When the kiss broke she smiled at him. “That was amazing,” she said, still a little breathless. “I never felt anything like that before.”

“Good,” he said. “I like pleasing you, Sara.” 

He held her tightly and she couldn’t ignore his cock pushing against her belly. “I’d like to please you too,” she said softly. Saying those words gave her a thrill but also made her nervous. Yes, she wanted to please him, but she wasn’t entirely sure how to do it. Her past efforts in this area had not gone well. Would he belittle her lack of experience?

He rolled onto his back and smiled at her. “Hand me that lotion from the nightstand,” he said.

She obeyed, a little puzzled by the request. “Why do you want this?” She gave him the bottle.

He winked at her. “You’ll see.” He put the bottle by his side. “Now, touch me,” he said. He took her hand in his and gently pressed her hand to his chest. Slowly he moved their hands down his body. She allowed him to guide her as their hands traveled along his cool skin until they reached his cock. Then he let go. 

She looked up at him and he gave her an encouraging smile. Tentatively she ran her fingers over him. Penn let out an appreciative “mmmm”.

Touching him suddenly brought Greg into the forefront of her mind. The memories flashed over her in a fast and merciless parade.

_Greg wanted to have sex, but when she protested that she wasn’t ready he grudgingly accepted her offer of a handjob. The only problem was that she had never given one before, but this didn’t seem like a good time to tell him that. He was already in a pissy mood about not getting to have sex with her._

_They got off to a promising start. Greg moaned and muttered “yeah baby” as her hand encircled him. She felt encouraged but when she began to rub him his demeanor changed. He criticized her technique, griping that she was rubbing him too slowly and not holding him tightly enough. The criticism made her self-conscious and her tension manifested itself in the motions of her hand. Now he complained that she was holding him too tightly. Each harsh word made her feel worse about herself and this whole situation. But for all his bitching, he never gave her any helpful advice on how to improve her technique._

_As the encounter went on (it seemed as though it would never end) his impatience radiated from him like a bad smell. Sara couldn’t work up any kind of steady rhythm because she was anticipating his criticism. Finally, he barked at her, “Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you doing, milking a cow?”_

_He had never used that tone with her before, and it startled her badly. She flinched and her hand involuntarily clamped on his cock. He hissed and she thought she had hurt him, but apparently something in the way she gripped him brought on his orgasm. She could tell even as he spurted all over himself that he didn’t get any real satisfaction out of it. After his climax he stormed into the bathroom to clean himself up, then he gave her a perfunctory kiss on the forehead before leaving. He never even offered to pleasure her – not that she wanted his hands anywhere near her._

_A few days later they tried it again and Greg accepted her caresses with even less grace. He let it be known that he viewed a handjob as a poor substitute for the “real thing”, and her handjobs in particular were an even worse substitute. She shouldn’t have been surprised that things went even worse this time. After another round of snotty remarks and unsatisfying rubbing he condescended to finger her, but she wasn’t wet enough and the friction was uncomfortable. When she complained that he was being too rough he rolled his eyes and snapped, “Maybe if you weren’t so frigid you might enjoy it!”_

_That pierced her to the quick. She asked him to leave and he stormed out. He apologized the next day, even sent her flowers, but she still felt hurt. Maybe she should have ended it then, but she kept thinking that the situation had to be her fault because she hadn’t been upfront with him about her fears and lack of experience. Maybe if she talked honestly with him about these things he would understand and move more slowly. She resolved to try this the next time they saw each other._

_A week later she did see him but she never got the chance to talk about her concerns. Before she even knew it the breakup was happening in all its ugly glory…_

“Are you all right, Sara?”

Sara steadied herself and looked up at Penn. There was no anger or criticism in his expression, only concern.

“I’m fine. Just – had a bad memory, is all.”

He touched her face. “You’re doing fine.”

She managed a smile and with an effort shoved the bad memories aside. She was _not_ going to let Greg’s ghost ruin what she could have with Penn. And she was certainly not going to think about _that_ night, not after all the work she had done to put it out of her mind. 

“Hold out your hands,” he said. She complied, and he picked up the bottle, squirting a little of the lotion on her hands. A light went on in her head and she smiled. He nodded, grinning at her. “You got the idea I see,” he said.

“Oh yes.” She rubbed the lotion over her hands, just enough to leave a light coating on the skin, then she placed her fingers around his cock. She began to move her hand slowly up and down, paying attention to any cues Penn gave her. The lotion provided enough lubrication to make her hand slip and slide easily over the skin. There was none of the friction that Greg had complained about. 

“That’s nice, sweetie,” he said after a few strokes. “Go just a little faster now, okay?” 

She obeyed, and was rewarded with a grunt. She glanced at his face and saw his jaw tense slightly. His pleasure made her feel good. Even better, it made her feel more confident.

Acting on impulse she bent her head and kissed the tip of his cock. His spine stiffened. “Ah.”

She took that as a good sign and did it again. He made another appreciative sound and she combined the two actions, simultaneously kissing his cockhead and stroking his shaft. Her tongue flicked the little slit at the top and his back arched a little.

“Yesssss.” His voice was a little unsteady. 

She rubbed him faster, enjoying the feeling of his cock slipping along her fingers. Her lips fastened around the head and she moved it in and out of her mouth, all the while working on his shaft with her hand. She only kept the head inside her mouth, fearful that if she took any more she might gag and break this lovely erotic spell they had created between them. The slight salty taste of his precum was…interesting.

After a minute or two of this Penn said in that same unsteady voice, “Sara dear, I love what you’re doing, but I’m – I’m about to come.” He groaned. 

She understood that he was warning her that he might come in her mouth. She didn’t want that ‒ not now, but in the future, who knew? 

She released his cockhead from her mouth and redoubled her strokes. A few seconds later Penn let out a sharp cry and his hips bucked as he began to spurt onto himself. She kept rubbing until the spasms slowly died away and his cock began to soften.

Penn moaned and relaxed, his mouth hanging open for a few moments. Finally he turned to her, a slow smile on his lips. “That was lovely. You have a nice touch. Such soft hands.”

Sara smiled back at him. “Thank you.” Something loosened in her chest and she mentally told Greg to go to hell.

She looked down at his belly. “You’re all messy,” she said, giggling. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She slipped out of bed and darted into the bathroom. She grabbed a washcloth and a clean towel, dampened the cloth, and headed back to the bedroom.

Penn raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“You cleaned me up last night. Let me return the favor.”

“Well aren’t you sweet.” He watched, smiling, as Sara wiped him down with the cloth then dried him with the towel. When she was done she balled up the cloth and towel and left the room again to toss them in the bathroom laundry hamper. 

When she returned to the bed he beamed at her and held open his arms. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

She slid into his arms and kissed him. “My pleasure.” 

His embrace tightened and she felt his cold hands on her back. She exclaimed, “You’re freezing! Want me to put another blanket on the bed?”

“No, it’s fine. My skin’s always cold. I’m used to it.”

She looked at him, a little doubtful. “Are you sure? You’re not sick are you, Penn?”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m in perfect health, Sara. In fact I’ve never felt better in my life.”

She wasn’t quite convinced, but why argue with him about this? It would only spoil the moment. She cuddled closer to him and let herself drift. A great feeling of peace and contentment filled her and she fell asleep with a smile on her lips.

*****

Penn gently prodded her awake some time later. She blinked up at him. _Not again_. 

“You’ve got _another_ early start?”

“I hate to say it, but I do.”

She groaned and pulled herself out of bed. Her hair was snarled and one of the garter straps had somehow come undone. “You need a better schedule.”

“Things may change soon. Be patient, Sara.”

“I’ll try.” She rubbed her eyes and followed him. A few steps from the bedroom door, Trish’s admonition popped into her mind. “Hey, how about giving me your number?”

He stopped and turned to face her. For a moment or two he didn’t respond. His brows were furrowed and he seemed to be considering the question seriously. Was he going to refuse? But why would he?

Finally he shrugged and said, “Okay.” He went over to her computer desk and grabbed the pad and pen she kept there. Quickly he scrawled something and tore off a sheet. “Here you go.” He handed her the paper.

“Thanks.” She looked at the paper, admiring the elaborate cursive he had used to write his name next to his number.

“You have nice handwriting,” she said. “It looks like something from the Declaration of Independence.”

“Thank you. And thank you for not making any puns about _penmanship_.”

She grinned at him. “It never crossed my mind.”

He chuckled. “Sure it didn’t. Anyway, the best time to get me is the afternoon. After four or so.”

“Great. I’ll call you sometime this week.”

He smiled. “Do that. Maybe we can have phone sex.”

That possibility had never occurred to her, but she liked it. “I’ve never done that.”

“Oh, then we have to try it. It’ll be fun. The next best thing to being together.”

“Naughty and fun.” Penn seemed to have an endless supply of naughty and fun ideas. “When can I see you again?” She was already craving his touch.

“I’m not sure. Maybe during the week? I have some things to do. I’ll let you know.”

She tried to hide her disappointment. “All right.” Unbidden, the doubts began to rise up in the back of her mind.

He sensed her mood. He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her head up to face him. His eyes locked onto hers. “I don’t know what this ex-boyfriend did to you, but I’m not him. I don’t say ‘I’ll let you know’ just to have something to say. I mean it. I will see you again, Sara.” 

His gaze was so earnest. So distracting. “I believe you,” she murmured. 

“Good.” He released her chin and smiled at her. “Now, will you be so kind as to accompany me to the door?”

She smiled back at him. “Of course. In fact, I’ll even walk you to the elevator.”

“My perfect hostess.” He caressed her cheek.

They left the bedroom together. As they passed the bathroom Sara ducked inside and grabbed her red flannel robe from the hook on the back of the door. She shrugged into the robe and belted it tightly around her waist.

Penn looked her over, shaking his head and smiling. “Now there’s a combination. Silk and lace and flannel.”

She struck a pose, hands on hips and her head cocked to one side. “It doesn’t exactly fit the Joie De Vivre model, does it?”

“Maybe not. But with you, it works. Who knows, maybe it’ll become the next big thing.”

She giggled. “I just want to walk you to the elevator without giving my neighbors a show.”

He held out his hand. “Good. Your shows are for my eyes only.”

They left the apartment, hand in hand. They didn’t speak as they walked down the hall to the elevator. With each step the moment of separation grew closer, and Sara dreaded it. 

Too soon the elevator doors rumbled open. Penn kissed her and whispered in her ear, “Don’t forget: phone sex,” before stepping inside. And with that he was gone.


	9. Prodigal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stressful phone conversation.

Sara woke up just before ten on Sunday, still wearing the lingerie Penn had bought for her. The stocking tops and two of the garter belt straps had twisted a little while she slept and as she undressed she winced at the sight of the red marks they left on her thighs. She gingerly touched the discolored patches on her skin and imagined Penn soothing her by caressing them and kissing them.

After showering and changing into more comfortable sweats she gathered up the lingerie and brought it to the bathroom. There was no way she would trust the Laundromat with these delicate garments, so she decided to wash them by hand in the sink. A little mild detergent was all she needed to get them clean, and soon she had the clothes hanging up to dry on the shower curtain rod. 

When she was done washing the clothes she decided to look at her neck. She had almost forgotten about the bite. Standing before the bathroom mirror she tilted her head and held up her hair to get a good viewing angle. 

_Show me_ , Penn whispered in her memory. 

Goosebumps popped out on her arms. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on her reflection.

The bruises had faded to a light greenish-blue and the puncture marks were almost completely healed. She would check again before she dressed for work tomorrow morning. Perhaps the scarf wouldn’t be necessary. A bit of concealer might be enough to cover the fading marks. 

By bedtime the clothes were dry. Sara gently folded them, rewrapped them in tissue paper and replaced them in the blue Joie De Vivre box. Touching the lingerie brought back memories of the previous night. She smiled as she placed the box in her dresser drawer, next to the half dozen erotic novels she had bought over the last few years. 

Seeing the books gave her pause. She had spent many happy hours reading them and pleasuring herself while replaying the scenes in her mind. Did she still need them now that she had a real lover to play with? She had always wondered if reality could ever measure up to the fantasy. Now that she had Penn in her life she thought she could answer that question with a resounding yes. When she closed her eyes she could almost feel his fingers, his tongue, on her body. She couldn’t wait to see him again. What would their next encounter be like? 

She had enjoyed their games so far, but she couldn’t help wondering when they would have “real” sex. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry for that. Maybe he sensed that she was a virgin and didn’t want to scare her by being too aggressive. After the biting incident he had probably realized that he needed to slow things down. She couldn’t really complain, not when he came up with so many delightful variations. The things he did with his fingers and tongue and sexy grinding made her feel so good. Now she knew what he meant when he said that sex was a playground. 

Yes, reality was definitely equal to the fantasy.

*****

All day Sunday and all of Monday she wrestled with an overwhelming urge to call Penn. A dozen times she picked up her phone with every intention of calling him, but each time she lost her nerve. A couple of times she even punched in the digits, but something held her back from hitting the send button. 

She had never felt comfortable calling a man. It went against everything she had been taught when she was growing up. The woman was supposed to wait for the man to call. It was just one of a seemingly endless list of rules a “nice” girl was expected to obey: don’t call him first, don’t wear too-tight clothing, don’t wear red lipstick, don’t press your body against his when you’re dancing, and so on. As soon as Sara hit puberty her mother began drilling these rules into her. Trying to remember them all had made her so nervous she could barely speak on her first few dates in high school.

Complicating matters was the phone sex issue. Penn had suggested this at the end of his visit and once the idea took hold in her mind she couldn’t stop thinking about it. If she took the initiative and called him he would think that she wanted to do it. She _did_ want it, but at the same time the prospect of talking openly about sex was scary. It was yet another thing that “nice” girls didn’t do. What if shyness overcame her and she couldn’t talk at all? What if she said the wrong thing? Could you do phone sex wrong? What if Penn thought she was a loser?

She tried to tell herself that she was making a big deal out of something that wasn’t even a problem. Penn wouldn’t laugh at her for her inexperience. He would do what he had done all along: take the lead and show her how to do it. He might even enjoy teaching her. He would probably love it if she called him. He had given her his number, hadn’t he? Maybe he was even waiting for her to call.

It was a persuasive argument but her fears still held her back. It looked as though she would end up waiting for Penn to call after all. She could imagine Trish sighing and shaking her head. 

Monday night she was relaxing in the living room after dinner when the phone rang. She caught her breath but blew it out in a loud sigh when she picked up the phone and recognized the caller ID. 

“Hi, Mom.” Keeping the disappointment out of her voice took a huge effort. 

“Well hello, Sara. How are you? I haven’t heard from you in such a long time.” Vera’s fussy voice immediately began to grate on Sara’s nerves.

“Mom, I called you on your birthday.”

“That was almost three weeks ago. I know you’re busy with your job and your friends, but I worry about you when I don’t hear from you, dear.” 

Her mother had this uncanny ability to take an affectionate word like “dear” and make it feel like a slap.

She opened her mouth to respond when Vera followed up with: “It’s just that the city is so dangerous for a woman on her own. I was reading in the paper about a young woman – just about your age, Sara – who was murdered there. She was coming home late. From a bar.” She spoke that last word with disdain. 

Sara pressed a hand to her eyes. “When did this happen, Mom?” The story didn’t sound familiar.

“Oh, I don’t remember. That’s not the point, Sara. The point is, I worry about you. You’re all alone there. You’re my only child. What if something happened to you? I’d fall apart. Sometimes I can’t sleep, worrying about what might happen to you. It’s not good for my health, you know. Dr. Perkins said I have to avoid unnecessary stress.”

 _All aboard for the guilt trip!_ A dull ache started in Sara’s temples. Yes, it was possible that this murder had happened recently and she had missed it in the news. She had been somewhat preoccupied the last few days. But it was also possible that her mother had read this story in the paper weeks ago and held onto it, just waiting for the right time to spring it on Sara. Just another guerilla tactic in Vera’s ongoing campaign to pressure her into coming back home.

”Mom, crime has never been lower. The statistics just came out a couple of months ago. I’m perfectly safe here. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“You’re right. You’re right. I should just keep quiet and mind my own business. But a mother always worries. One day you’ll have children of your own, and then you’ll understand.” There was a slight edge in her mother’s voice, and Sara could easily read the subtext: _You should already have children._

She swallowed hard, trying not to let her anger get the better of her. They were enacting a scene from a play that had been running for more than a decade. Their characters in this play were well-rehearsed: the prodigal daughter and the long-suffering martyred mother.

She took a deep breath and managed to keep a civil tone as she said, “I’m glad you called, Mom. I love you.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone then Vera said, “Well, I love you too, dear.” Another beat of silence, then: “So how are you doing? What’s new?”

She hesitated then said, “I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Oh that’s wonderful, Sara. Tell me about him.”

“His name’s Penn. He’s an artist.”

A few seconds of silence. Then, “Oh. That’s…nice.” Her tone said she thought it was anything but nice. Sara could again read the subtext: _Can he make a living doing that? Can he provide for you?_

She felt a sudden need to make a case for Penn. She wanted her mother to understand that he was more than what he did for a living. “We have so much in common. We get along great. He’s funny, he’s smart. And he treats me so well, Mom. I think you’d like him if you met him.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy, dear. You deserve it.” She really did sound glad. The tension in Sara’s chest eased just a bit. She tried to think of something to say. Maybe she could suggest a weekend visit? She and Penn could rent a car, drive up on a Friday night and leave for home early Sunday morning. They wouldn’t be able to sleep in the same bed, of course. She knew better than to argue with her parents about this. And she wasn’t inclined to argue about it anyway. After all, it was their house and they got to set the rules. But would Penn be okay with separate bedrooms?

Her mother broke into her thoughts just then: “You’re being good, aren’t you Sara? You’re not letting him get too frisky?” 

The question hit uncomfortably close to what she had just been thinking. “No, Mom.” An image sprang into her mind: Penn between her legs, looking up at her as he licked her. 

Her face flushed and she immediately felt guilty. Yes, they hadn’t had intercourse yet, but they had done quite a few things that fell into the “frisky” category. There was no way she was going to admit such a thing to her mother, however. 

“I’m glad to hear that. You probably think I’m old-fashioned, but I do believe that morals matter. Men test girls to see how much they can get away with. If a girl gives up too much, he knows she’s not the kind of girl he wants to marry.”

“Mom, I just met Penn. It’s a little early to be thinking about marriage, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m serious, Sara. I know it’s a cliché, but he’s not going to buy the cow if he’s getting the milk for free.”

“So I’m a cow, Mom? That’s nice. Moo.” She spoke lightly enough, but she was not really kidding. Something about her mother’s lecturing tone of voice was really starting to get on her nerves. 

“Oh, come on now. You know what I mean. I just want to see you happy. You can’t tell me that girls your age are really happy jumping from one man’s bed to another. You may think it’s all fun and games, but before you know it you’re forty and you’ve lost your opportunity to marry a good man and have children. A career might sound glamorous, but there’s really only one career worth having, Sara: wife and mother. And when a woman has had a lot of affairs, no decent man is going to want her as his wife and the mother of his children. She just finds herself used up and alone.”

The pain thumped in Sara’s skull as the harangue went on. There was no point in trying to interrupt, even though she wanted so badly to challenge Vera’s blithe assertions. Did she really believe that her daughter had no value unless she was married with children? Didn’t she see how hurtful that was?

And then there was her mother’s assumption that relations between men and women boiled down to one concept: men were ruled by their appetites while women didn’t have any sexual desire whatsoever. Apparently Sara’s only role was to thwart the man’s desires, and if she thwarted him long enough he would reward her with a wedding ring. 

Sara would have loved to tell her how Penn’s touch excited her in a way she had never known before. She wished she could explain how his obvious desire for her thrilled her and made her feel confident and beautiful for the first time in her life. 

But she could never say these things. All Vera would hear was that her daughter was a tramp.

“Sara? Are you still there?”

In a tight voice she responded, “Yes, Mom. I’m still here.”

“Oh, okay. I hope you’re not offended, dear. I just don’t want to see you being taken advantage of by some smooth-talking boy who’s only out for one thing. You need a man who treats you with respect. Like Will.”

Oh God, was she really going to bring up Will again? _It’s been three years – let it go!_

“I was so excited when Will said he wanted to marry you after graduation. I never understood why you turned him down.”

Sara pressed a hand to her eyes. “I turned him down because I didn’t love him, Mom. And I don’t think he loved me. He liked the _idea_ of having a wife, and I just happened to be there.”

Her mother snorted. “You think marriage is all hearts and flowers, Sara? Maybe Will wasn’t the type to sweep you off your feet, but he was going to take over the family business. He wasn’t an _artist_ , of course, but he would have been a great provider.”

“Well, why didn’t _you_ marry him, then?”

The words snapped out of her like a whip. She blinked, stunned. Had she really just talked back to her mother?

Silence on the other end. It stretched out so long that Sara thought her mother had ended the call. 

Finally Vera said, “There’s no need to use that tone with me, Sara Beth.” 

Sara’s face flushed red-hot. Vera only used her middle name when she was really pissed at her. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“I’m just trying to help, you know. Give you a little guidance, like a mother’s supposed to. And for that I get my head bitten off?”

“Mom ‒”

“Don’t worry, Sara, I’ve learned my lesson. You know better than I do, I guess. I’m just a foolish old-fashioned hick from a small town. I don’t fit with you modern smart girls, I guess. Your father and I waited until our wedding night and we’ve been married for almost thirty years. But what do I know? I guess my experience counts for nothing. So from now on, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Go do whatever you want.”

Tears blurred Sara’s vision. How had things turned so wrong so fast? The guilt trip, successfully thwarted a few minutes ago, clobbered her now. 

“Mom, I’m so sorry I snapped at you,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me. But you know I appreciate how much you care about me. Don’t you?” Her voice cracked. 

There was no response. Sara knew she was being manipulated, but that didn’t do anything to calm her nerves. Her mother’s promise to shut up didn’t mean that she would mind her own business and let Sara live her life. It was a rather aggressive hint that she might never talk to Sara again. As aggravating as Vera could be, the thought that she might freeze Sara out of her life was terrifying. It wasn’t a vague anxiety; there was precedent for this. Vera once stopped speaking to her sister Martha for two years because of a dispute over which one of them was supposed to inherit their mother’s silverware. 

The silence dragged on. Sara held her breath, tears spilling down her cheeks. At last Vera sighed and said, “I know you appreciate me, dear. Maybe I came on a little too strong. It’s just that I worry about you. Part of me will always see you as a little girl in pigtails, and I want to protect that innocent little girl so much and make sure nothing ever hurts her.”

Sara was stunned. Her mother had never said anything like this before, and it didn’t feel like an attempt at manipulation. “Oh Mom.” She sniffled as another tear escaped. 

“You’re a grown woman, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I know that you’ll always do the right thing.”

“Of course I will, Mom.” Her chest loosened and she felt that she could breathe again. 

“All right, then. So, when am I going to see you again?”

She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Well, I’m coming for Thanksgiving.”

“Yes, that will be nice. It’s still over two months away, though. I’d love to see you sooner. Maybe I can persuade your father to open up his wallet and spring for me to come down on the train some Saturday. We could have a girl’s day. Go shopping, have lunch. We could walk around and take in the sights.”

“Oh, you’d come to the city? You’re not scared of being murdered in the street?” Sara couldn’t resist teasing her. For a moment she thought she had gone too far, but then Vera laughed. 

“Oh, don’t be a smarty pants. I think I’ll be okay for one day. Maybe I could even meet this young man of yours.”

“I’d like that,” Sara said. “He would too.”

“Great. I’ll have a talk with your father and get back to you. Is that antique store I like still open?”

“The one on Grand Street? Yes, I think so. I can check.”

“Oh, yes, please check. I love that little tortoiseshell box I bought last time. Your father says, ‘What are you going to do with that box? You never put anything in it! Isn’t that what boxes are for?’ He doesn’t understand antiques.”

 _Neither do I_ , thought Sara, but she decided to keep this to herself. Her mother was in a good mood again, and she didn’t want to wreck it.

Vera chattered on about antiques for a few more minutes before switching to the latest news from home. Dad was still trying to make a go of his backyard garden, with little success. This summer all but two of his tomato plants had died. He wasn’t going to give up, though. And Jackie Cummins, Sara’s best friend from high school, had gotten engaged. The wedding date hadn’t been set yet. 

Sara felt a pang of anxiety at the mention of Jackie’s engagement, fearing that her mother would use it as an excuse to start in on her again, but Vera had apparently decided that she’d harangued her daughter enough for one night. Instead she just went on to the next bit of news. Mrs. Franks, Sara’s favorite teacher, had retired and was planning to move to North Carolina after the holidays to be closer to her daughter and her grandchildren. Kyle Parker, who lived next door to Sara’s family, enlisted in the Marines two weeks ago.

Sara listened as her mother went on, just waiting for a break in the conversation so that she could say goodbye. She said the right words in the right places, but she felt disconnected from the people her mother was talking about. She vaguely remembered having a crush on Kyle Parker in the sixth grade, but she hadn’t spoken to him in years. Oh, she was happy for Mrs. Franks and she was definitely going to send Jackie a card congratulating her on her engagement, but these people were part of her past. 

At last Vera said, “Well, I guess I’d better let you go then, dear.” She always wound up their phone calls with this statement. Sara tried not to let her relief show. They made their goodbyes, and then, thank God, Sara was free.

She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, breathing hard. Conversations with her mother always left her feeling wrung out and tired. They started off normally, and then her mother always had to remind Sara of what she “should” be doing. The combination of guilt and resentment wore her out sometimes.

They had fought bitterly when she expressed her desire to go to college, and they had fought again when she announced her plans to move to the city and start a career. Two years after Sara’s tearful departure, they had finally arrived at a point where they no longer screamed at each other. But tensions still flared up occasionally. Every time they spoke Sara was always on edge, waiting for the inevitable judgmental comment that would remind her of what a disappointment she was to her mother.

At least the proposed trip to the city would be free from that drama. Vera had visited twice before, and each time she had been too excited by the day’s events to play her usual head games. The possibility of Penn coming along added an unknown factor to the mix, however. She wanted her mother to like him. But Sara knew how to read her, and when Vera said, “Oh, that’s nice,” her tone and her slight hesitation had set off an alarm bell. She was probably all set to reject Penn, sight unseen, just because of his career choice.

Because Vera wasn’t kidding when she said she was old-fashioned. Her views on sex formed just one part of this philosophy. She also believed that boyfriends were to be evaluated for their potential as husbands and providers. The best providers were professionals like doctors or lawyers. (When Sara started working at the law firm, Vera’s first question was, “Are any of the attorneys eligible?”) A skilled tradesman such as a plumber or an electrician was also good husband material. But an artist? Her mother would be more inclined to view that as a hobby instead of a career. And hobbies didn’t pay the bills. 

Sara would continue seeing Penn (and getting frisky with him) no matter what her mother thought, of course. But it would be nice to have one less thing to fight about.


	10. Type Two Good Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn and Sara get frisky on the phone.

Trish called during lunch the next day. “Hi, hon. Just wondering if you guys would be up for our double date this Saturday. Maybe seven or so?”

Sara could have kicked herself. In all the excitement of Saturday night she had forgotten to mention the double date idea to Penn. “It sounds good to me, Trish. I’ll call Penn later and run it by him.”

“You’ll call him? Aha, so you did get his number. Attagirl, I knew you could do it!”

Sara giggled. “See, I do listen to you.”

“Good job. So, I was thinking we’d keep it simple. You could come over and we’d get takeout from Hot Wok. Then we could watch a movie, or maybe we could find a game on TV. Does your guy like sports?”

“No idea. I’ll have to ask him.”

“Okay. It’s no big deal if he doesn’t. We’ve got On Demand and HBO, plus about a million DVDs. The entire world of entertainment is at our disposal.”

“This sounds really exciting, Trish. I can’t wait to see you guys.”

“Well, call me as soon as you talk to Penn and we’ll finalize things.”

“Will do.”

“Okay, hon.” They said their goodbyes and Sara put her phone back in her purse, suddenly too excited to finish her roast beef sandwich. She finally had her excuse to call Penn. 

*****

After she finished eating dinner and doing the dishes, Sara went into the living room with her phone and dialed Penn’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“Well hello, beautiful.” His voice was a sexy purr that caressed her ear. “I was wondering if you were going to call.”

“Oh, uh, I’ve had a crazy couple of days,” she said. She couldn’t explain her shyness about calling him. She didn’t even understand it herself.

“Okay, I forgive you.” There was an undercurrent of humor in his tone. “So, what’s new?”

“I was talking to my friend Trish earlier today,” she said. “She wants us to get together with her and her boyfriend Saturday night, around seven.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it? Her idea was that we’d go to her place. We can order Chinese from Hot Wok. They make this hot and sour soup, oh my God it’s to die for.”

A few seconds of silence passed. Sara was about to ask if something was wrong when Penn said, “It sounds lovely, but Sara, I can’t eat Chinese food.”

“You can’t? Is it the MSG? They can take it out if you ask them to.”

“It’s the MSG and a lot of other things. I have a number of food allergies and sensitivities. I’m gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free, you name it. And I can’t eat meat at all. I’m on a very strict diet, and if I stray from it I can get pretty sick.”

“Oh, Penn. I’m so sorry.” Well, so much for inviting him to Thanksgiving dinner with her parents. She could just imagine the martyr act that Vera would put on if Sara asked her to accommodate Penn’s dietary needs. “I can ask Trish to change the plan. Maybe we can go to a vegan place? Would that work for you?” 

“Still too risky. I’d have to ask the staff a lot of questions about how the food is prepared and give them very strict instructions. I don’t want to inconvenience the rest of you. I’ll eat something safe before I leave my apartment and that will be enough for me.”

“Okay, I can eat a light meal before I leave too. If you still want to go?”

“Of course I want to go. I know this is important to you. Maybe we could just have drinks? I can still have alcohol, thankfully.”

“I think Trish would be okay with that. She and Matt have a stocked bar. Or we could go someplace. We could always go back to Eddie’s.”

“That would be nice. I liked it there.”

“I’ll firm things up with Trish and let you know.”

“Sounds good.” There was a pause and then Penn said, “So, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, what shall we talk about?”

“Well, uh, I’m not sure.” She was very sure, but there seemed to be a blockage in her throat. 

“Oh, I think you have an idea of what we can talk about.” His voice took on that teasing tone that was becoming so familiar to her. “The thing I suggested before I left on Sunday morning?”

Oh, God. The phone sex. He really wanted to do it! Trying to keep calm, Sara said, “I, uh, remember that.”

“Want to give it a try? It can be a lot of fun.”

Her heart began to beat faster. “Uh, okay.”

“You don’t sound very enthused, Sara.”

“Yes,” she said, more firmly. “Let’s do it, Penn.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Where are you right now?”

“In the living room.”

“Why don’t you go into the bedroom. Strip down to your panties and get into bed. Get nice and comfy.”

“All right.” She stood up and headed for the bedroom. Once there she turned on the light, put the phone on the bed and stripped, tossing her clothes and shoes everywhere in her excitement. Goosebumps stood out on her flesh and her pulse quickened. 

When she was done she climbed into bed. “Okay, I did what you said.” The phone felt warm in her hand.

“Are you comfy?”

She wiggled her bare toes. “Yes, I’m comfy.”

“Good. You’re just wearing your panties?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of panties are they?”

“White cotton.” She braced herself for his disappointment.

He chuckled. “Still wearing the good girl uniform, I see.”

“Good girl uniform? What’s that?”

“Good girls just seem drawn to white cotton undies. I don’t know why.” 

“Is that how you see me, Penn? As a good girl?” 

“Well, yes, I do see you that way.”

“Oh.” Greg used to call her an “ice queen”, so “good girl” was probably an improvement. Or maybe they were two sides of the same coin?

“You think that’s a bad thing?” he said.

“No, not bad, I guess.” She couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. After her recent conversation with Vera, she wasn’t so sure that she wanted to be a good girl. Not if it meant being like her mother. 

“Want to hear my theory about good girls, Sara?”

“Sure. Tell me.”

“Well, I believe that there are two types of good girls. Type One is the good girl who really wants to be good. Then there’s Type Two: the good girl who secretly wants to be bad. Can you guess which type I prefer, darling?”

“Type Two?” It seemed like the obvious choice.

“Well done! And based on our interactions so far, I think you have great potential to be Type Two.”

“Oh, I like that. And, uh, I think it fits me.” She smiled, blushing a little.

“I’m glad you think so, pet.”

“I was afraid you’d say I was Type One. Type One sounds boring.”

“Nothing about you is boring, my dear,” said Penn. “And since you answered my question correctly, you win a prize.”

She giggled. “Oooh, what did I win?” 

“You won my permission to touch yourself. I want you to start playing with your nipple. Can you do that for me, Sara?” 

“Yes, I can do that.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Good. Tweak it gently with your fingers.”

With her free hand Sara lightly pinched the already stiff bit of flesh between her thumb and forefinger. The sensation made her gasp. 

Penn heard it. He chuckled. “Feels nice?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Mmmm. Keep playing with it. Rub it. Tweak it. Get it nice and stiff. Pretend it’s my hand.” 

She brushed her thumb over the nipple, lightly back and forth. Each touch made it stiffer, sending pleasant tingles to her groin. She pinched it again lightly and shivered. “Ah, Penn, it feels so good.” It was exciting to touch herself at his command.

“Does it feel the way it feels when I touch you?”

“Mmm, yes.”

“Do you think about me when you’re alone in bed?”

“I do, Penn. I imagine that you’re here with me. I think about you touching me all over my body. I imagine you – licking me the way you did the other night. Sometimes I can almost feel your touch.” As she spoke she kept brushing the nipple with her thumb. “Do – do you think about me?”

“All the time, Sara. I think about what I’d like to do to you.”

She licked her lips. “What would you like to do to me?” 

“I’d like to make you mine completely.”

“Yours?” Her heart beat a little faster. “What do you mean by that?”

“Mine, as in mine to play with any way I choose.”

She swallowed as a rush of emotion swelled within her. “That – that opens up a lot of possibilities.”

“Oh, it certainly does. There are so many games I’d like to play with you. But I won’t spring them all on you at once. I don’t want to push you too fast.”

“I’m intrigued.” Ha. That word didn’t even begin to cover how she felt. She hesitated, unsure of what to say next. This was uncharted territory for her. At last she said, “I’d like to play games with you too. Nothing rough, though. You wouldn’t hurt me, would you, Penn?”

“No, darling, I would never hurt you. Pain doesn’t turn me on. But I won’t rule out giving you a sound spanking from time to time.” 

She giggled. “You keep talking about spanking. Is that one of your kinks?”

“I do enjoy it, yes. I love the thought of putting you over my knee and administering a little firm discipline. What do you think about that?”

“I’ve never been spanked. But I wouldn’t mind trying it with you.” She could hardly believe she was saying such a thing to him. But as soon as she said the words she knew them to be true. Just the thought of him spanking her made her squeeze her thighs together. 

Could she tell him about other things she wouldn’t mind trying with him? Bondage, chains, blindfolds, teasing and orgasm denial – she loved reading about these things in her stash of erotic novels. “Sensual domination” was what one writer had called these scenarios – taking command in the bedroom without hurting or abusing one’s partner. Could Penn be that kind of lover?

She swallowed hard. “There are other things I’d like to do with you. Things I’ve read about. It’s kind of hard to talk about them.”

“We’ll start slow. There’s no hurry to do everything on the menu in a single night. You said you’d like to try spanking. We can start there. If you really want to try it, all you have to do is be a naughty girl.” 

“But I’m a good girl,” she said. “You said so yourself, Penn.” 

“Yes, but you’re a Type Two good girl. A Type Two girl occasionally needs discipline. She requires a firm but gentle hand.” His voice was lower now, and she shivered with that honey-on-skin sensation. 

“And that’s you? Firm but gentle?” Her voice squeaked a little on the last word.

“That’s me. Like I said, I’m not into pain. Spanking isn’t about hurting. It’s about teaching you to obey me.”

“Go ahead and teach me, Penn,” she whispered. “I really want to learn.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Let’s begin. Put the phone on speaker so you’ll have both hands free.”

“Okay.” She put the phone on speaker, turned up the volume a little and set it beside her on the pillow. “I did it, Penn. Can you hear me okay?”

“Loud and clear. How about you?”

“Yes, I hear you fine.”

“Great. Now close your eyes and listen to my voice. You must do exactly as I say. Understand?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes and conjured up his image in her mind. 

“Touch your breasts, Sara. Imagine me gently kissing them. And then I take your nipple between my lips and draw little circles around it with the tip of my tongue.” 

She lightly tweaked her nipples, using gentle pressure. With her eyes closed she could easily imagine that his tongue was caressing her. The combination of the light touch and the fantasy made her sigh.

“Think about me moving from one breast to the other, suckling on one and rubbing the other with my fingers,” Penn went on. His low, soft voice insinuated itself into her brain. “Can you feel my fingers, Sara?”

She pinched both nipples and groaned. “Yes, I feel you,” she breathed.

“Grazing the skin lightly with my teeth. I give you a playful little nip – not a bite.”

She lightly pinched the nipple. “Oh.” She gasped and her toes curled.

“Now I’m kissing that soft little valley between your breasts. My hands move all over your soft, warm skin. I can taste the faint salty tang of your perspiration. I can see goosebumps breaking out on your flesh. You’re trembling slightly. So eager.”

Sara was breathing hard now, her eyes closed as his words painted the scene in her mind. She brushed her fingers up and down her sternum. With her other hand she cupped a breast, squeezing gently. She imagined Penn’s strong, cool hands playing with her and his goatee tickling the sensitive space between her breasts. She moaned and squirmed a little on the bed. 

“Take your breasts and gently squeeze them together, Sara. Imagine me straddling you, with my cock   
nestled between your breasts.”

That soft, silky voice saying the word “cock” gave her a thrill. She wanted to hear him say all kinds of dirty things to her. She made a small sound and pushed her breasts together. 

“My cock slides into that warm, soft little pocket between your breasts. When I move my hips a little the head of my cock comes up to your lips. You’d like to taste it, wouldn’t you? Maybe give it a little kiss?”

“Yes, I’d like to take the head in my mouth like I did the other night.” She felt a little giddy with her own daring.

“And I loved it when you did that. You never did that before?”

“No, Penn,” she whispered.

“Mmmm. Your innocence is an aphrodisiac for me. I’m so hard right now, Sara. You’re so naughty to do that to me.”

She giggled. “Oh yeah? What about me? I’m all tingly and it’s because of you.”

“I’m not the least bit sorry about that.” 

There was an almost unbearable tickling between her legs. She wanted to rub herself – just a little, just enough to ease that itch. Why not? How was Penn going to know? He couldn’t see her. If she didn’t make too much noise she could probably get away with it.

Her hand snaked down her body, into her damp panties. There was a slight squishing sound as her fingers slipped inside and began rubbing. She clamped her jaws shut against the moan that wanted to escape. 

“What are you doing, Sara? Are you fingering yourself?”

His sudden sharp tone jerked her back to reality. Her hand froze and her eyes snapped open. “Huh? What?” 

Had he heard what she was doing? No way could his hearing be that keen.

“Is your hand in your panties right now? Don’t lie to me, Sara.” 

She blinked, confused. “Uh, yes.”

“I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself there. Not yet. Stop it at once.” He sounded like a strict schoolteacher. And something about that was so sexy. 

She moaned. “Oh Penn, please.”

“ _Now_ , missy. Don’t make me ask you again.”

Even though she was sorely tempted to disobey him, she pulled her hand out of her panties and let her arm drop onto the mattress beside her. “Okay, fine. I did it.” Her aching clit throbbed.

He laughed. “Don’t sulk.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Yes you are. You’re sulking. I’ve got half a mind to come over there right now and put you over my knee. I’ll pull down those good girl panties and smack your ass until it’s nice and red. Maybe then you’ll do as you’re told.”

“Why don’t you come over and do it, then?” 

He laughed. “You’ve got a smart mouth. Lucky for you, I’m too tired to leave this bed right now, or else I’d be at your door in a heartbeat. By the way, speaking of those good girl panties, are they wet?”

“Soaked.” She could still hear the sulk in her voice. It was kind of funny.

“Poor little Sara. All tingly and frustrated. You must learn to be patient. You’re so focused on the destination. But you need to enjoy the journey too. Getting there is half the fun, dear.”

“If you say so.”

He laughed again. “I do say so.”

“Well, what about you? Are you touching yourself now?”

“Of course I am.”

“Oh, so you get to touch yourself and I don’t?” She folded her arms behind her head. Anything to keep them from wandering back down between her legs.

“That’s right. I get to touch myself because I’m in charge here. You are not. You will do as I say, and I say you don’t come without my permission. Do you understand?”

Her belly tightened. The conversation had landed her in territory that was unfamiliar, yet thrilling. She didn’t know what to say.

A few seconds went by, then Penn said, “Sara? Answer my question, please. Do you understand that you will not come without my permission?” His stern tone made her toes curl.

She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I won’t come without your permission.” She didn’t know where the “sir” came from, but saying it felt right. 

“Very good, pet. You called me sir without being told to. You’re learning.” The delight in his tone made her squirm. 

“So,” he said, “where are those wandering hands of yours now?”

“They’re crossed behind my head. Sir.”

“Good. See that they stay there. Now, as for _my_ hands…my left hand is holding my phone. Guess what the right one is holding?”

She giggled. “Your cock?”

“Well done, pet.”

“I wish my hand was holding it.” 

“So do I. Your hand is much softer than mine. It feels so good when you touch me, Sara.” Silence for a beat. “And I know it’ll feel even better when I slide my cock into your pussy. Like slipping into a velvet glove.”

Oh lord, what an image. She groaned. “ _When_? When is that going to happen?”

“Patience, pet. When the moment is right, it will happen. Trust me?”

She let out a long exhalation. “All right. I trust you, Penn.”

“That was all I needed to hear, darling. Go ahead and play with your clit.”

“What?” She yanked her arms out from beneath her pillow. “For real?”

“Yes. Come for me, Sara. I want to hear it when you do. Maybe we can get off at the same time. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“So nice.” She slipped her hand into her panties again and began fingering herself in earnest. Her fingers circled her clit and she groaned.

“That’s my girl. Play with your clit for me.” He grunted. Clearly he was taking care of business on his end. Sara’s fingers moved faster and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the feelings.

There was silence, broken only by her rapid breathing and his soft grunts. Then he said, “You know what I’d like, Sara?”

“What.” She barely had enough breath to get the word out.

“I’d like to watch you pleasure yourself sometime.” 

She giggled. “Penn! I couldn’t do that! It’s too private.” She felt sure that she would shrivel up in embarrassment if he was in the room while she was touching herself. And yet, some part of her liked the idea. Her fingers moved faster on her clit. 

“Pretty please?” His tone was teasing, but it also sounded a little strained. He was close.

She tried to match his teasing, but she was speeding close to the edge. “I’ll – I’ll think about it,” she gasped. 

“Yes, think about it. I’d love to see you on your bed, naked except for the stockings and garter belt I gave you. Legs spread wide. Touching.” He groaned again. “Oh, now that image is in my head. I think that’s – that’s it.”

“It’s in my head too… _oh_!” Her legs shook and she yelped as orgasm seized her. Penn’s groan floated out of the phone.

It was over too quickly. She lay in her bed, gasping, completely limp, drenched with sweat. Slowly her breathing returned to normal. Her eyelids drooped and she felt that she might nod off. 

Penn’s hoarse voice snatched her from the brink of sleep. “Sara?”

“Hmmm, yeah?” She turned her head and stared at the phone lying on her pillow. She didn’t have the energy to pick it up and take it off speaker.

“How was that, darling?” He sounded sleepy too. She smiled.

“That was amazing, Penn. I’m pooped. You didn’t even touch me and you wore me out.” She hugged herself and grinned at the ceiling. 

“Same here. I’m all in. You have that effect on me, you little minx.”

She giggled. “I’ve never been called a minx before. I like it.” It was definitely preferable to “ice queen”. 

“It suits you,” he said.

“Thank you.” She hesitated, suddenly full of emotions she couldn’t quite put a name to. “What you said before…about being in charge? I, uh, kind of liked that.”

“You did? Well, I did too.” A brief pause. “Would you like me to take charge when we’re together?”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t know. It felt good to submit to you tonight. I’m just not sure I want to do that all the time.”

“You don’t have to. It’s a game, Sara. Just another ride on the playground. You don’t go to Six Flags and spend all your time on just one rollercoaster, do you?”

She had never been to Six Flags but she understood his meaning. “No, I don’t.”

“You said earlier that you wanted to try things you’ve read about. We can do those things, and if you don’t like something, then we won’t do it again. I want us to be completely open with each other sexually. You tell me what you want and what you like, and I’ll do the same. Deal?”

“I’ll try, Penn. But I’m not used to talking about sex.”

“It’s like anything else, darling. It gets easier with practice. I’ll make sure we get plenty of practice.” He yawned. “Excuse me. I think I’ll say goodnight now, Sara. I’m just about to doze off here.”

“Me too. I’ll call you about Saturday after I firm things up with Trish.”

“Okay. Have a good night, darling. I enjoyed this. We must do it again soon.”

“Yes, we should. I had fun too. Goodnight, Penn.”

“Night.” And then he was gone. She picked up her silent phone and stared at it. There was a familiar ache in her chest. It was the same ache she felt when he left her just before dawn. 

The ache that told her she was his.


	11. Double Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn and Sara have an evening out with Sara's friends

Sara took a long look at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that. She had tried on three different outfits, none of which seemed to be just right. Now as she studied her reflection, she finally smiled and nodded. Yes, the simple navy blue dress was perfect for the double date tonight. She glanced at her watch and realized that she’d better hurry. Penn was supposed to meet her in the lobby of her building at seven-thirty, and it was almost seven-twenty now. She didn’t believe in keeping a date waiting. 

She quickly ran a comb through her hair and sprayed it, then slipped on her shoes. After taking one last look in the mirror she shrugged on a light jacket and left the apartment.

Trish had been happy to change the plan for the double date once Sara explained Penn’s food situation. They would meet for drinks at eight o’clock – but not at Eddie’s. 

“I don’t know why you’re so attached to that dive bar,” Trish said. “It’s dark. The tables are all scratched up. The jukebox is so loud you can’t carry on a conversation. And does it play any music that was recorded after 1986?” Trish loved to needle her about her love of classic rock and 80’s rock (she called it “dinosaur music”). 

Sara almost told her that this “dive bar” was the scene of her and Penn’s first kiss, but at the last second she held her tongue. That bit of info was a little too personal to share. Instead she asked, “Okay, so what’s your plan?”

“How about Mimosa? It has a nice atmosphere. Good drinks. And on Saturday nights they have this great piano player.”

“Okay, Mimosa sounds good.”

Now as Sara rode the elevator downstairs, she was so excited she could hardly stand still. She really wanted this evening to be a success. She could picture the four of them going out on a regular basis. Maybe they could even include Val and Kim and their boyfriends. It would be wonderful if Penn and her friends liked each other. She couldn’t think of a reason why this wouldn’t happen.

Penn was already in the lobby when she stepped off the elevator. He was wearing a black suit that looked as if it had been tailor-made for him, with a thin dark tie and a beautiful maroon shirt that looked like silk. As always his glasses gave him a scholarly look, which was offset by his sly smile.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said. He gave her a long look from head to toe as she approached him. “You look good enough to eat.”

She grinned at him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “So do you.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and they headed out of the building. It was already dark outside and the air was a little chilly. “We’ll grab a cab,” he said. “We have plenty of time.” 

He stepped onto the curb and held up his free hand. After about a minute a cab pulled up. Penn opened the door for her and she got in. He slid in beside her and gave Mimosa’s address to the driver. The cab pulled away and they settled in the backseat.

Sara was a little surprised that Penn knew the address without her telling him. “You know this place?” she asked.

“I went there once. I spend a lot of time in that neighborhood. Joie De Vivre is two blocks from there.”

“I see.” _And you know he’s spent a lot of time in that particular store_ , a spiteful little voice whispered in her mind. With an effort she squashed it.

Traffic was light and they made pretty good time. They rode several blocks in silence, then Sara glanced at him and said, “Are you nervous about tonight?”

He looked back at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “No. People don’t make me nervous, Sara.”

She laughed. “I wish I could say that.”

He smiled. “It wasn’t always that way. I used to be afraid all the time.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You? I don’t believe it.”

“Oh it’s true. I was shy, awkward. Easily intimidated. People picked up on that and they pushed me around a lot. My own father called me a disgrace and a failure because I didn’t live up to his expectations. He said he was ashamed to call me his son.” His smile faded and she could see the pain in his eyes.

“Oh, Penn, I’m sorry,” she said. It occurred to her that she was lucky. Vera was a world-class nag and manipulator, but at least she had never insulted Sara like that.

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Things are different now.”

“What happened?”

His expression brightened. “I met someone who changed my life. You might call him a guru. He taught me not to be afraid. He gave me the confidence to go after what I wanted. Now nothing scares me.”

“Huh. I don’t suppose you have his number?”

He shook his head. “We lost touch. I haven’t seen him in a long time. But you don’t need a guru, Sara. All you need is a little confidence. You don’t have to be afraid of anyone. You are as good as anyone else. Never forget that.”

A lump that suddenly rose up in her throat and she swallowed hard. Luckily they arrived at Mimosa just then, because she had no idea how to respond to his words. Penn paid the fare and exited the cab. He darted around to her side, opened the door and gave her his hand to help her step out. As always, his touch was cold.

Inside Mimosa Sara checked her jacket and looked around the dimly lit space. A few globe-shaped light fixtures hung from the high ceiling, but Sara thought it was darker in here than it was in Eddie’s. The décor was all black leather and dark wood. The floor tiles were arranged in a black and white checkerboard pattern. She noticed a piano on the far side of the lounge, unattended for the moment.

She spotted Trish waving at her from a booth in a corner. She raised a hand in acknowledgement and headed over there, Penn following a step behind.

“Hi hon.” Trish gave her a hug. She was wearing a little black cocktail dress and stiletto heels that were so high Sara’s ankles ached in sympathy. Beside her Matt looked dashing as usual in a steel grey suit. His black hair was slicked back and he had a pencil-thin mustache. He looked as if he had stepped out of a 1930’s movie.

Matt offered a hug of his own. “Hello, you.”

“Guys, it’s so good to see you.” Sara motioned at Penn, who came up to stand beside her. “Trish, you remember Penn?”

“I certainly do. Good to see you again.” 

“The pleasure is all mine,” said Penn. They shook hands. 

“And I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.” Trish’s boyfriend extended his hand and Penn shook it.

Everyone settled into the booth. “You had no trouble finding the place?” said Matt.

“I’m pretty familiar with this neighborhood,” said Penn. “Some nice clothing stores around here.” He smiled as he darted a sidelong glance at Sara. She bit her lip and looked away.

Matt signaled and a waitress came over. They ordered drinks: Scotch on the rocks for Penn and Matt, white wine for Sara and vodka with cranberry juice for Trish. Soft jazzy notes floated through the room as the piano player began his evening’s work.

“So, what do you think?” Trish said after the waitress left. “A step up from Eddie’s, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s very nice.” Sara still would have preferred Eddie’s, but she didn’t want to squelch Trish’s pleasure.

“I read the article in _Scene_ ,” said Penn. “The same people who own Pastel own this place.”

“That’s right,” said Trish. “Have you been to Pastel?”

“Never had the pleasure.”

“It’s a fun place. They do a great Sunday brunch.”

Penn smiled. “I’m not really a brunch person.”

“Neither am I,” said Sara.

“Their dinner menu is good too,” Matt said. He looked at Trish. “We took my mother there for her birthday, remember? She couldn’t stop talking about the Chicken Milanese with roasted potatoes.”

“I remember. She loved it. And the vanilla cheesecake with raspberry sauce. I want to try that next time.”

Sara glanced at Penn. Was it difficult for him to hear people talking about food that he couldn’t eat? Maybe it would be best to switch topics. “This piano player is pretty good,” she said.

“Oh, he’s wonderful,” said Trish. “His name’s Aaron King. He does all the jazz standards, plus he throws in some of his original compositions once in a while. He has a CD coming out next month, I think.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a listen,” said Penn. “I like jazz.”

“If you do, then you’ll really like his playing,” said Matt.

Their drinks arrived and after Trish took a sip she said, “So, Penn. Are you from around here?”

Penn swirled the Scotch in his glass. The ice cubes tinkled. “No, I’ve only lived here for a few months. “I’ve moved around a lot. You might say I’m the restless type.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“I was born in London.”

Sara turned to him, eyes wide. “Really? You have no accent.”

He smiled and took a sip. “I left when I was very young. I haven’t been back in years. I guess my accent just…faded. Along with any connection I had to the place.”

“You don’t have family there anymore?” asked Matt.

Penn shrugged. “They all died years ago. I’ve been on my own for a long time. Just drifting from place to place, never putting down roots.” He looked at Sara and smiled. “But I may have found a reason to stick around.”

Sara blushed and gulped some wine. Her hand shook slightly as she put the glass back on the table. 

*****

The conversation continued with some idle chat about the nice autumn weather, followed by observations about the local sports teams and their latest exploits. From there the talk flowed easily, never getting bogged down on one topic for too long. They regaled each other with stories about their jobs and their crazy coworkers. Penn listened attentively and laughed at the funnier anecdotes, but he didn’t contribute any stories of his own. 

Then Trish talked about her volunteer work with battered women, and this led the group into a general discussion of their passions. This segued into Matt and Trish’s interest in the local art scene, and then Trish said to Penn, “I understand you’re an artist.”

Penn nodded. “That’s right.”

“What’s your preferred medium?”

“I mainly do ink drawings. Sketches, really.”

Trish nodded. “Have you shown anywhere?”

“No, not yet.” Penn shrugged. 

Matt said, “Maybe you’d like to show me some of your work some time? Trish and I know some of the players in the scene. We could set up some introductions. I’m not promising anything, of course, but maybe we can help open some doors for you.”

Penn smiled. “I’d appreciate that.”

Matt nodded. “Sure. It can be pretty hard to get your career started. Here, I’ll give you my card.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a cream-colored business card and handed it to Penn. “Give me a call and we’ll set up a meeting. You can show me some of your best pieces, and I’ll give you my opinion.”

“That’s very kind of you, Matt. Thanks.”

Matt shrugged. “Happy to help.” 

Sara could hardly keep still. Matt was downplaying his familiarity with the art scene. If he liked Penn’s work, he could introduce him to some very important contacts.

Trish looked from Penn to her and back again, smiling. “I’ve got to say it. You two make a really cute couple.”

Penn chuckled and Sara said, “Aw, Trish.”

“No, I’m serious. I feel like I’m somewhat responsible for this relationship, since you guys met at my party. Penn, you would not believe how hard it was to get this one out of the house. I kept telling her, ‘Come and hang out, have some fun. You can’t work all the time.’ I was so thrilled when she showed up that night.”

Sara laughed and shook her head. “Come on, Trish. You make me sound like a hermit.”

Trish considered it. “Okay, it wasn’t _that_ bad. But you did need a break. And look what came out of it. It just goes to show that you never know what’s going to happen.” 

“Very true,” said Penn. He smiled at Sara. “I know I didn’t expect to meet someone that night.”

She smiled back. “Me neither.”

“I’m happy for the two of you,” said Trish. “Really. But Penn, something’s been on my mind. If you don’t mind my asking, how did you come to be at my party? I never saw you at one of my events before.”

“I came with two of your friends. Justin and Abigail. Lovely couple.”

Matt nodded. “They are. I went to school with Justin. I’ve known him forever. Abby too.” 

“They’ve never mentioned you,” said Trish. “Justin loves meeting new people, especially artists. He’s always introducing me to people he’s met.”

“I haven’t known him very long. As I said before, I’ve only lived here for a few months.”

Trish toyed with her glass. “But I’ll bet he’s already talked your ear off about his influences.” 

“He certainly has. He’s very passionate about the subject.”

“He really is. Have you seen his work?”

“I have. It’s excellent. I’m a little jealous of how good he is.”

“Yes, he’s a very talented guy. It’s just a matter of time until his career takes off. Then you can say you knew him when.” 

“His success will be well deserved,” Penn replied.

“True. By the way, where did you meet him?”

Penn sipped his drink. “It was at another party. Someone’s loft.”

“Oh yeah? Whose?”

“I don’t remember all the specifics.” He chuckled. “I was feeling no pain that night, I can tell you.”

Trish stared directly at him. She wasn’t quite smiling and her eyes were narrowed slightly as she scanned Penn’s face. Penn looked back at her, his expression mild and pleasant. If Trish was trying to stare him down, she wasn’t succeeding.

“It’s just so weird that he and Abby never mentioned you,” she finally said. 

Penn smiled at her. “I can’t speak for him, Trish. I don’t know why he didn’t say anything to you.”

“Is it really such a big deal, Trish?” asked Sara. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she didn’t care for the way Trish was staring at Penn.

Trish drained her glass and smiled at Sara. “No, I guess it isn’t. Don’t mind me, hon. I’m just being nosy.”

Sara finished her wine. Yes, Trish could be nosy sometimes. But her behavior seemed motivated by more than simple curiosity. She appeared to be on the brink of making an accusation – but of what? 

She wanted to press the subject but then the waitress reappeared and they all ordered another round. Sara decided that she would really nurse this drink. It was her third glass of wine and she didn’t want to get drunk.

After the waitress left there was a brief silence. Nobody seemed to know what to say next. All around them the lounge was filling up quickly, and across the bar Aaron King started in on “Misty”. 

The song grabbed Sara’s attention. For the moment she forgot about Penn and her friends and the awkward scene that had just taken place. “Misty” was her grandmother’s favorite song, and Sara hadn’t heard it since she was a little girl. The soft piano notes seemed to reach deep inside her and tug at her heart. She blinked hard, trying to suppress a tear.

Penn seemed to sense her mood. He touched her hand. “Are you okay, Sara?”

She blinked again and managed a smile. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s that song. Brings back memories.”

“Told you Aaron was good,” said Trish. She was smiling now. It was as if the scene with Penn had never happened.

Damn, she needed a moment to compose herself. “I think I’ll use the restroom while we’re waiting for the next round.” 

She got up and Trish quickly rose too. “I’ll come with.” 

They crossed the checkerboard floor, Trish in the lead, and headed to the ladies’ room. There was a short line, but it moved quickly. Sara didn’t speak to Trish until they were both washing their hands. By then she had gotten some control over her emotions. 

Sara glanced at her in the mirror and said, “What’s with the third degree?”

Trish moved behind her to get some paper towels. “What?”

“Questioning Penn like that. What’s the deal? This isn’t a job interview.”

Trish dried her hands and tossed the towels in the trash. “I guess I did come on a bit strong. I’m just curious about the man who’s dating my best friend, that’s all.”

Sara grabbed some towels and dried her hands. “I understand that. But can you ease up on the questioning?”

Trish turned to face her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Okay. No more third degree for tonight. I promise.”

Sara smiled. “Thank you.”

They returned to the booth and saw that their latest round of drinks had arrived. Matt gave them a friendly smile as they sat down. “Hey. Penn and I were just talking about movies. The guy’s a walking film encyclopedia.”

Penn chuckled. “Well, I guess you could say I’m a bit of a film geek.”

“You’re in good company,” said Trish. “We’re all movie junkies.” She nodded over at Sara. “You’re looking forward to October, aren’t you, hon? A whole month of horror movies on TV.”

Penn looked at her. “You like horror movies, Sara?”

She shrugged. “I’m not into heavy gore or torture porn. I like the movies that came out in the 60’s and 70’s. The Hammer movies. Christopher Lee as Dracula. Stuff like that.”

Penn nodded. “I could never embrace horror. Of all the genres, horror seems to be the most blatantly fake.”

“More fake than science fiction?” asked Matt.

“I think so. Science fiction films have their own internal logic. Horror movies are so outrageous, no logic to them at all. A horror movie usually makes me laugh harder than a comedy does.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s just me, but I have trouble suspending disbelief.”

“We all have our preferences,” said Sara. “In my case, I just like the escapism a horror movie gives me.”

Penn smiled and raised his glass. “We all need a little escape from time to time.”

“Here’s to escapism,” said Matt, raising his own glass.

“I’ll drink to that,” said Trish.

Sara giggled. “I guess I will too.” They all clinked their glasses.

They continued on in this vein for some time, talking about their favorite genres and specific films. Sara kept a wary eye on Trish, but her friend was true to her word. Nothing more was said about Justin, or the art scene in general. After a while Sara began to relax and enjoy herself. A short while ago she had thought the evening was heading for disaster. Now it looked as though it might turn out all right.


	12. Taken For A Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn and Sara share an enjoyable cab ride.

The rest of the evening passed without further incident and at around eleven things began to wind down. When everyone agreed that it was time to go home Matt signaled their waitress for the check. After she brought it Penn said, “Matt, let’s split the check.” 

Matt took out his American Express card. “Nope. We invited you guys, so it’s our treat.” 

“That’s very kind of you,” said Penn.

“It’s our pleasure,” Trish said.

Sara grinned at them. “You guys. You’re too generous. You’ve got to let us get a couple of rounds next time, okay?”

Trish nodded. “Deal.”

Once the bill was paid it was time to go. Out on the sidewalk everyone exchanged smiles and handshakes and hugs, as well as promises to get together again soon. Was Trish looking at Penn a little too intently before she said goodbye? Or was that just Sara’s imagination? 

After seeing off Matt and Trish, Penn hailed a cab to go back to Sara’s apartment. After they settled into the backseat Penn said, “Well, that was…interesting. For a while there I thought your friend was going to strap me to a polygraph.”

She glanced at him. “I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable. I mean, who cares where you met Justin, right?” 

He shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad. I’m just not used to being questioned.”

“She’s not always like that, I swear.”

He gave her a big smile and put an arm around her shoulders. “Sara. It’s okay. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

His smile caused something to loosen inside her chest. She sighed and snuggled in close. The four glasses of wine she’d had during the evening had put her in just the right spot between mellow and tipsy. “Do you think you might like to get together again?”

“Sure, why not.” His tone was a little flat. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for being less than enthusiastic.

“Why don’t we give it a couple of weeks,” she said. “Maybe by then Trish will be in a better mood.”

“Let’s hope so.” Penn paused then added, “I liked it when we were talking about movies. If we stick to that subject we’ll all get along just fine.”

“I’m glad you like movies as much as I do,” she said. “We could have a movie marathon some night. No horror, though. I promise.”

He chuckled. “Sara, I could watch anything with you. Bring it on.”

She raised her head from his shoulder and grinned at him. “Okay, you asked for it. I’m going to Netflix and bringing in the heavy guns: _Dracula Has Risen from the Grave_ and _Taste the Blood of Dracula_. How’s that for a double feature?”

Penn affected a stricken expression. “Looks like I spoke too soon. Dracula movies? Seriously? I thought you liked me, Sara.”

She laughed. “Too late to back out now, sweetie. Besides, if you sit through that, I will make it worth your while.”

He cocked his head to one side and regarded her. A slow smile spread across his face. “Temptress,” he said. She giggled and nodded.

The cab slowed as traffic increased. That wasn’t too surprising, as the theaters and sports arenas were just letting out. It looked as though their trip would take a while. 

“So, are you going to take Matt up on his offer?” she asked.

“Maybe. I’m not sure.” 

“Not sure? It could be really good for you.”

He hesitated, then said, “I just don’t know if I’m ready to have my work evaluated at this time.”

“The perfectionism thing again?”

“Yes. The perfectionism ‘thing’ again.”

She didn’t understand his hesitation – then again, she wasn’t an artist. Maybe Penn might take the offer more seriously if he understood just how connected Matt was. “You know that gallery downtown? Tempo?”

“Yes, I’ve heard of Tempo. Everybody in the community wants to have their work shown at Tempo.”

“Matt’s brother Drew is one of the owners. He probably didn’t mention it because he didn’t want to get your hopes up. But if he thinks your stuff is good, he might introduce you to Drew. It couldn’t hurt to have a contact like that, could it?”

“You’re right, it’s a very good contact to have. It’s one of the factors I’ll have to consider before deciding whether or not I’ll call Matt.” Penn sounded bored, which was exactly the opposite of how Sara thought he would sound after hearing the information she had just given him. 

She studied his face. “Are you okay? You seem down.”

Penn shrugged. “I’m a little tired. Tonight was fun, but it was stressful too.”

“Yes, I guess it was.” She leaned back in her seat. A melancholy feeling began to settle over her. “I wanted tonight to be perfect, and it wasn’t.”

“Not your fault, Sara.”

“I know. I just can’t understand Trish’s behavior.”

“But we all parted on good terms. If something was bothering her at the beginning of the evening it was out of her system by the time we left Mimosa.”

“I hope you’re right.” She sighed. “I just want my friends to like you. And Trish is my best friend. I really want her to approve of you.”

He frowned. “What are you saying, Sara? If Trish disapproves of me you’ll break things off with me?”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “What? No. No way will I do that.”

Some tension seemed to leave his body and he relaxed. “Good.” Silence for a couple of beats and then he said, “You know, it’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t like me. I can deal with that. And so can you, Sara. You can’t force her to feel the way you want her to feel. And I’m not going to change just to get her approval.”

She leaned back in her seat. “I wouldn’t want you to. It’s just that her opinion means a lot to me.”

“Sara.” His stern voice made her turn to look at him. He was frowning, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, darling, but I really don’t care about her opinion of me. _Your_ opinion is the only one that matters to me. Remember what I said earlier about confidence? Part of being confident is knowing that you don’t need anyone’s approval. She has a right to her opinion. But so do you.”

Sara didn’t speak for several seconds as she let Penn’s words sink in. He made a lot of sense. She did tend to give more weight to Trish’s opinions over her own because her friend had always seemed so worldly and experienced. Maybe she had given Trish too much authority ‒ and maybe Trish had come to expect Sara’s deference as her due.

“I’ll give her a call during the week, just to see what’s going on with her,” she said at last. “But for now, let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Lovely. Because I’d rather do _this_.” He gently turned her head to face him. Next thing she knew they were kissing. His tongue slipped between her lips and she made a small sound. A lovely melting sensation started in her belly and spread outwards. She shifted on the backseat, turning her body toward him to get a better angle. 

At the back of her mind a vague warning sounded. The driver could see them. What would he think?

At that point Penn’s hand landed on her knee and began moving steadily up her leg. His fingers left cold trails on her skin, but that was not the reason for her sudden shiver. 

His hand disappeared under her dress and she broke the kiss. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Shh.” He grinned at her. His fingers glided up her thigh and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle the sounds that wanted to escape. She glanced at the driver, but he didn’t seem to notice them. Maybe this kind of thing happened in his cab all the time. They stopped at a light and he stared straight ahead, lightly beating his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the R&B song on the radio.

Penn eased her dress up her thighs, and then brushed the crotch of her pantyhose. Sara looked back at him. Her cheeks flamed. “Penn, the driver will see us,” she whispered.

He mouthed, “So what?” Then, smirking, he caressed the damp material again. “Ah,” she breathed.

Abruptly he put his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. She gasped. She had forgotten how quick and strong he was. Penn maneuvered her like a life-sized doll until she was seated between his thighs, facing forward. Her eyes bugged out and she put her arms up to brace herself against the front seat. 

He chuckled and whispered in her ear, “Yes, you should hold on.”

Now she had new things to worry about. What if other drivers could see them? What if a passing cop car spotted them? What if their driver got distracted and had an accident? Before she could voice any of these fears his arms snaked around her from behind and pulled her dress up almost to her waist. Both hands slid between her legs. A second later a low _rrrrrrrip_ told her that he had just trashed another pair of her pantyhose. 

“I told you I hate these things,” he whispered, close to her ear. She snorted, and then gasped as he touched her panties. He worked his fingers underneath the damp cotton. She shuddered and bit her lip to muffle a moan. Her fingers tightened on the headrest.

This was crazy. This was dirty. Hell, this was probably illegal. Good girls didn’t act like this. She should tell Penn to stop at once. She should push his hands away. But oh God, his touch felt so good. And the danger and just plain _wrongness_ of the situation made it feel even better. Her rational mind told her that she should stop him before something terrible happened, but the part of her that hungered for Penn would have none of it. 

The cab was moving again, almost at a normal speed, and her body moved along with it. Of their own accord her hips pushed forward, silently asking for his touch. Peen seemed happy to oblige. The fingers of one hand gently explored her wet opening and the fingers of his other hand circled her clit, easily finding all the spots that made her legs shake. 

Sara ground herself against him, no longer caring about the driver or anyone else besides her man and what he was doing between her legs. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensations. Her hips rocked and on the back motion she could feel his cock throbbing against her ass. She pushed back against the hardness and was rewarded with a low hiss from Penn.

A couple more thrusts of his fingers and her body stiffened. At the moment of orgasm Penn leaned forward and kissed the nape of her neck. She shoved a hand in her mouth to smother a cry. The only sound that escaped was a small squeak. 

Penn kept thrumming his fingers against her clit, teasing every last bit of pleasure from her, until she went limp against him, panting, her head low. His wonderful sandalwood scent filled her. 

After a minute or so Sara opened her eyes and raised her head. She felt disoriented. Sweat trickled down her back and dripped down from her hairline. Penn helped ease her off his lap and got her settled next to him. She looked at him, hardly able to believe what had just happened. 

Penn was wearing his not-quite innocent smile. She shook her head and primly pulled her dress back down to her knees. A delightful glow kindled in her belly and spread out through her limbs. She was suddenly very sleepy.

She glanced at the driver, who sat silently up front. He didn’t meet her eyes in the rearview mirror. He gave no indication that he had seen the shenanigans in his backseat. She looked out the window and saw familiar streets. They were in her neighborhood. 

The cab pulled up outside her apartment a couple of minutes later. Penn paid the driver and as before came around to open her door and give her a hand. She accepted the help gratefully. She was not quite steady on her feet. Penn, on the other hand, was perfectly balanced, showing no ill effects from either the many Scotches he had downed earlier or the high jinks he had just perpetrated in the cab. 

She managed to leave the cab without looking at the driver. Penn walked her to her building and opened the outer door for her. After she unlocked the inner door and let them into the lobby she glanced down and was dismayed to see the long runs extending down each pantyhose leg. Penn followed her gaze and smirked. 

She looked back at him. “Pantyhose don’t grow on trees, you know,” she said. She wanted to be pissed off, but the glow from her climax was still spreading through her body and she knew she couldn’t be mad at him.

“Sorry. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.” His smile said he was anything but sorry.

“You are a bad boy,” she said. 

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, am I? I think I was very good to you a few minutes ago.”

She tried to put a stern expression on her face but couldn’t hold it. Her lips kept twitching and after staring at him for a few seconds she shook her head and giggled. “You were very, very good to me. Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “When you scooped me up into your lap, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought you were going to, you know. Do it.”

Penn cupped her cheek with one hand. “No, Sara. Our first time is going to be in a bed. Not some backseat quickie. I want to make love to you properly. And I want to take my time with you.”

His words thrilled her. She moved her head a little and kissed his hand. “Want to come up?”

“I’d love to, but I have to turn in. I’ve got an ‒”

“An early start,” she finished. “What a shock.”

“Right.” He gave a little shrug as if to say _It is what it is_. 

“You and your early starts. I wish you could stay. Then I could, uh, return the favor. Make you feel good too.” She didn’t think she could bring herself to be more explicit than that.

“Oh that’s all right, darling. I got my satisfaction from giving you pleasure.”

“What a sweet thing to say.” She kissed his cheek again and he smiled at her.

They walked to the elevator and he hit the button. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can get together during the week.”

“Sure. I’d like that.” She looked at him. “I learned some things about you tonight.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

“No, no of course not. For example, you said you liked jazz. Maybe we could go to a concert? Or a club?” She was just throwing out ideas to keep the conversation going, put off their inevitable parting for as long as possible.

He nodded. “That’s a good idea. I do like jazz. Or, if you’re up for it, we could go to Maxwell Hall and take in a chamber music performance.” 

“I’d like that too. So you’re a classical music fan?”

“Oh yes. I love Mozart, Chopin, Beethoven. _Moonlight Sonata_ is probably my favorite piece. Beautiful music.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it,” she said. “I took music appreciation in college, but I don’t remember most of the things we heard.” She chuckled and shrugged. “It was just an easy way to pick up three credits.”

“I’ll bring the CD next time I come over. We can listen to it together. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m game. I like most of the things you introduce me to.” 

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He winked at her and she blushed. 

There was a ding as the elevator doors slid open. “I had a nice evening,” he said.

“I did too.” She stepped into the elevator and put up her arm to block the door from closing. “Last chance. Are you sure I can’t tempt you to come up?” 

“You always tempt me, Sara. But I can’t. Maybe soon we can spend the whole night and the whole day together. Just…not now.” His smile faded a little. 

“All right. Then I guess this is goodnight.”

“Yes. Goodnight, Sara.” He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. The kiss was too brief, over before she could become excited again. 

“Goodnight,” she whispered as he stepped back. Penn raised two fingers in a salute and then turned to go. 

She watched until he left the building, hungry for every last glimpse of him. When she could no longer see him she stepped back and let the elevator doors close. The car lurched upwards and she leaned against the wall. She sighed and closed her eyes.

She thought about their antics in the cab. Penn’s fingers had been so skillful. The more she thought about them the more aroused she became. She shivered in anticipation of stripping off her clothes and sliding into bed naked, letting the cool sheets caress her skin. By the time the doors opened on her floor she knew she would have to pleasure herself if she was to have any hope of getting to sleep tonight. 

As she put her key in the door Penn’s question came back to her: _If Trish disapproves of me you’ll break things off with me?_

She smiled and opened the door. _Not a chance_. It would take a lot more than Trish’s disapproval, or her mother’s, or anyone’s, to make her stop seeing Penn.


	13. Love and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara falls deeper in love with Penn, but she still has nagging questions about him.

Sara called Trish a couple of days after the double date. Without being too accusatory she asked about the scene between her and Penn, hoping for some explanation. But Trish would only say the same thing she had said in the ladies’ room at Mimosa: she had been overzealous in wanting to know more about Penn. 

“Do you have a problem with him?” Sara asked. “Because if it’s a misunderstanding, I’m sure we can clear it up.” She heard the near-pleading note in her voice and felt furious with herself for it. What was she doing? Begging Trish to like her boyfriend?

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Trish said. “Seriously, hon. We’re cool. I just went overboard. I’m sorry.”

Sara felt relieved, but it was short-lived. A few minutes later she tried to set up another double date and Trish begged off, explaining that her schedule was going to be jam-packed for the next couple of weeks. 

“Maybe we could get together for a quick beer some night this week?” Sara said. “Just us girls?”

“I’m sorry, hon,” said Trish. “I’m really slammed. Melissa broke her arm, so I have to cover for her at the office, plus I have to train a couple of new volunteers at the shelter. Maybe things will ease up in a few weeks and we can schedule something then.”

Before Sara could respond to that Trish said, “Hey, I hate to cut this short but Matt’s calling me. Talk to you soon, hon.” And with that she was gone.

Sara stared at the silent phone. What the hell? Trish had given her the bum’s rush, as if she were a telemarketer interrupting dinner. They couldn’t see each other for a few weeks? Yes, Trish had a full schedule with work, volunteering and her social obligations. But she had never blown Sara off so abruptly. 

Something had changed and she felt sure that it had something to do with that night at Mimosa. But if Trish kept insisting that nothing was wrong, what could Sara do about it? She couldn’t tie Trish up and waterboard her until she admitted what her problem was. All she could do was keep the lines of communication open.

She was still clinging to the fantasy of Penn hitting it off with her friends, so she suggested getting together with Val, Kim and their boyfriends. He hesitated and then said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Sara, but I think I’ve met enough of your friends.”

“But I’m sure Val and Kim wouldn’t treat you the way Trish did.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Honestly, Sara, I prefer to spend my time with you. _Just_ you.”

She blinked at him, feeling the beginnings of anger stirring in her gut. “You’re too good to meet my friends? Is that it?”

He frowned at her. “No that is _not_ it,” he said. “Come on, Sara. Don’t get in a huff. I don’t think I’m too good for them.”

“Then what is it?”

He sighed, closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against them. He stayed like that for what felt like a long time. She was about to say something when he opened his eyes again, looked at her and shook his head. “I’m just not a social person.”

“But you were so charming that night at Mimosa.”

A small smile curled his lips. “I wanted to make the effort for you. But it took a lot out of me. Meeting new people is very stressful for me.”

“Oh. I see.” She paused to let that sink in. “That makes sense to me, Penn. I – have trouble meeting new people too. That night at Trish’s party, there were so many people there I didn’t know. I felt so overwhelmed.” She chuckled. “If I hadn’t met you I would have bolted after about an hour.”

“Well then, I’m glad we met.” He smiled at her and she melted just a little. “So you see where I’m coming from. I don’t have a lot of friends. In fact, I don’t have any friends. Except you.”

He almost sounded proud of this. She was stunned. “No friends? None at all?” How was that possible? She couldn’t imagine going through life without her friends – especially Trish, even though Sara wanted to strangle her right now.

“I had one good friend, many years ago.”

“The guru you told me about?”

“Yes. He was my mentor. You might say he helped me become the man I am today. But then he suddenly dropped out of my life without a word of explanation. I tried to contact him but I had no luck. It was as if he had vanished from the face of the earth. I looked for him, but as time went by I finally realized that he was lost to me. That was…painful.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped. 

Sara was spellbound. Penn didn’t share much information about his past, and she was eager for any little scrap she could get. “I’m sorry you lost your friend,” she said.

“Thanks.” Penn sighed again. “Ever since then I’ve been a lone wolf. I prefer it that way. I don’t let just anyone into my life.” 

Then he smiled and her heart quickened. “But it’s different with you, Sara. I let you in because I’m very fond of you. I don't think of you as my friend because that word just doesn’t seem adequate. You mean so much more to me.”

A warm sensation started in her belly and began to spread outwards. _I’m very fond of you_ wasn’t quite the same as saying _I love you_ , but it still made her feel good. Her irritation faded away. It was impossible to be angry with him when he was looking at her the way he was now, those blue-green eyes burning deep into hers. 

He held out his hand to her and she took it, allowing herself to be folded into his embrace. She put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“What if Val and Kim want to meet you?” she asked. “What do I tell them?”

He chuckled. “Tell them I’m antisocial. Tell them I’m a jerk. Tell them I’m a stuck-up snob. Do we really need to involve other people in what we have? I’m happy with the way things are.”

“They’ll be pissed.”

“At you?”

She raised her head from his shoulder. “No, I guess not.”

He chuckled again. “Okay, so let them be pissed at me. I can take it. I don’t mind being the bad guy. I’ve played that role before.”

She smiled. “And you play it so well.”

“Why, thank you,” he said. “So here’s my suggestion. If Trish decides that she wants to do another double date, we’ll go. If not, that’s fine too. You see your friends as you normally would. And you and I will carry on the way we are. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead. “We can make our own little world. No one else needs to be invited.”

*****

Trish’s sudden aloofness was a disappointment, but Sara decided not to dwell on it. Instead she focused on the other areas of her life. Over the next few weeks she settled into a steady rhythm, dividing her life between work and downtime. She had the occasional “girls’ night” with Val and Kim. They couldn’t shed any light on what was going on with Trish; she had apparently withdrawn from them as well. 

The only piece of information she got came from Kim. “She told me she was working on a project. Wouldn’t say anything more.” She shrugged. “You know Trish. She gets a little OCD with her projects.”

Sara giggled and sipped her beer. “You can say that again.”

Both Val and Kim were curious about her new boyfriend, but when they asked to meet him Sara put them off with excuses about Penn’s crazy schedule. Lying to them didn’t make her feel good, but she couldn’t bring herself to follow Penn’s suggestion and tell them that he was a snob or a jerk. Luckily they bought her excuses and didn’t press her further. 

The weeks went by, October was in full swing, and she was spending most of her free time with Penn. She was falling for him, falling hard. They still hadn’t had intercourse yet – what she thought of as “real sex” – but she could hardly complain when he came up with so many delightful variations. He could do things with his fingers and tongue and sexy grinding that drove her wild. She had never dreamed that “doing everything but” (as her high school friends used to say) could be so enjoyable. Now she knew what he meant when he said that sex was a playground.

She was learning how to please him by using her mouth and hands on him. She couldn’t yet manage to take more than the head of his cock into her mouth, but Penn was always appreciative. He never made her feel that her efforts were subpar. He seemed to understand that she was inexperienced, even though she had never said the “V” word to him. From time to time he gave her suggestions on how she could improve her technique, but he never came across as demanding or critical. Instead he encouraged her by saying things like, “That’s lovely dear, just a little faster now,” or “I love it when you use your tongue like that.” 

It occurred to her that he rather enjoyed playing the role of teacher. She was certainly enjoying her role as his eager and diligent student. It wasn’t a role at all – she really did want to learn everything he could teach her about pleasure. With each encounter she was learning new things about her body and its responsiveness. And she felt more confident in her ability to satisfy him. The demon that was her relationship with Greg was almost fully exorcised.

Some nights when they weren’t together she put on the lingerie he had bought her. She looked at herself in the mirror, caressing her breasts and belly and thighs while thinking about Penn. Before long she started to blush and her legs trembled. That was her cue to hurry to bed. 

Once there she fingered and caressed herself, rubbing her stocking-clad legs together, all the while imagining that Penn was watching her and whispering encouragement. Sometimes in her fantasy he stroked himself as he watched her, timing his moves so that they could reach their climax at the same time. Other times he walked in on her and pretended to be scandalized. After scolding her and calling her a bad girl he put her over his knee for a spanking. These mental images spiked her desire and she came hard, crying out as her entire body shook. After her orgasm she lay in bed, drenched in sweat, imagining herself lying in Penn’s arms. She could almost hear him telling her how sexy she was and how much he desired her. 

She considered telling him about these fantasy sessions. Hearing about them would turn him on, but she felt a little too shy to say the words. Maybe instead of telling him she could show him. He had told her that he would like to watch her pleasure herself. She imagined the scene: after dressing up in her lingerie she would lead Penn to a chair in the corner of her bedroom. He would sit and watch as she lay down on the bed and began caressing herself. She could imagine his hungry expression, the bulge in his pants, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips…

The idea was almost too much to bear. It aroused her and made her blush at the same time. This man was corrupting her – and she was eager to go along with him. She loved the way he made her feel, with every nerve ending awake and responsive to the smallest stimulus. She was conscious of things that she had never noticed before, like the breeze ruffling her hair. Even her clothes felt different; when she slipped on a blouse the material touched her skin like a gentle caress, making her shiver. 

She used to read about passion and desire in books, wondering if such things were even real and if they would ever happen to her. Now she knew they were real and sometimes the knowledge almost made her cry with the intensity of her joy.

Almost every time they were together she asked Penn about going “all the way” and he always said, “I’m not in a hurry, Sara. We’ll do that when the time is right.” As far as she was concerned the time was already right, but Penn appeared to have his own timetable. It was kind of funny: Sara had been taught that the man was always the one pushing for sex while the woman resisted him until she had secured that all-important wedding ring. But in this situation she was the one raring to go while he was holding back. She wasn’t sure what he was waiting for but he seemed so sure of himself that she couldn’t help following his lead. 

Still, she was a big believer in preparation, so she made an appointment with her gynecologist. After having the full checkup she requested a prescription for birth control pills. She couldn’t look Dr. George in the eye when she asked for this. It was her first time receiving “the pill” and she felt as though she had a sign around her neck that said, “I’M GOING TO HAVE INTERCOURSE!” 

Without any fuss at all Dr. George wrote the prescription and handed her the slip. She explained the possible side effects and told Sara to take her pill at the same time every day. And that was that. Sara left the office feeling almost lightheaded with relief. She had been expecting an interrogation, or maybe even a lecture. She had to remind herself that not every female authority figure was Vera in disguise.

*****

Penn made her happy in so many ways, not just sexually. He was also very affectionate and attentive out of bed. He was the first person ever to give her a pet name. She had always envied those couples who had cute names for each other, even the ones that were so saccharine sweet they made her want to throw up. Thankfully Penn didn’t get too cutesy with his nicknames for her. He called her “darling” or “my sweet” or simply “pet”. 

She didn’t like “pet” at first. Did he think she was an animal? But he said it with such affection and warmth that she eventually succumbed to its charm. She loved hearing his voice no matter what he said. It always gave her that little shiver that made her think of honey being spilled on her skin. When she answered her phone and the first thing she heard was “Hello beautiful”, she actually trembled.

Spending time with him was wonderful, although dating could be tricky at times. Going to a restaurant was out of the question because of Penn’s food issues. Although he insisted that he didn’t mind watching her eat, she didn’t feel right ordering a meal in front of him when he couldn’t eat. Instead she would have a light dinner at home before they went anywhere. 

Penn didn’t like noisy places or crowds, so for many of their dates they went to The Screening Room, a tiny downtown theater that showed mostly revivals and foreign films. They also enjoyed going back to Eddie’s, and whenever possible Penn grabbed the booth they had occupied the night they met. He seemed to know without being told that she felt sentimental about it. 

They discovered that The Aaron King Trio was playing at After Eight, a small club downtown, and right away they decided to go. The music was great, and they even got to talk to Aaron between sets. They bought him a drink and she told him how much she enjoyed his version of “Misty”. He seemed humbled and pleased by her appreciation. 

When the trio came back on stage for the next set, he sat at the piano, leaned into the microphone and said, “This one’s going out to a special fan in the audience.” The familiar opening notes of “Misty” started up and Sara thought her heart might explode as Penn nudged her, grinning. When they left the club a couple of hours later Sara was sure that her feet weren’t touching the ground. Penn said, “I am definitely buying his CD.”

She liked it best when they stayed in. Even here Penn was capable of surprising her. One night he brought a CD of _Moonlight Sonata_ and other Beethoven works. She set up her boombox in the living room, put the CD in the tray and joined him on the couch.

“I don’t know how they did this in that class you told me about,” he said. “But I think the best way to listen to this music is to just let it wash over you. Don’t try to analyze it. Just feel it. Let it speak to you.”

“Okay.” She sat back and clicked the boombox’s remote.

The first piano notes grabbed her attention right away. It wasn’t what she expected. She had thought that the piece would be thunderous, with a full orchestra. Instead the somber piano sound gently touched her and filled her with a melancholy feeling that was strangely pleasant. 

She turned to Penn with a question, but she stopped when she saw him. He was perfectly still, his head tilted back, eyes closed, a faint smile on his lips. That smile and his relaxed posture made her reluctant to disturb him. Instead she sat back too and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let the melancholy wash over her again.

Abruptly the tempo of the piece speeded up. Her pulse quickened in sympathy and she felt that same rush that she sometimes got when she listened to her favorite 80’s songs. The comparison felt a little silly – even though she knew next to nothing about Beethoven she knew that his music was more significant than that of, say, Duran Duran. But maybe this was what Penn meant when he told her to let the music speak to her. It was reaching her, she could feel it.

She drifted, letting her mind wander as the music filled her. Suddenly, with two authoritative chords the piece ended. Her eyes snapped open and she looked around. Beside her Penn had also opened his eyes and was looking at her, smiling. As the next piece started she smiled back at him.

“That was really beautiful, Penn. Thank you for bringing the CD.”

“You can keep it, Sara. I want you to have it.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she just hugged him. 

Other nights they found movies on Turner Classic or the On Demand menu. Sara relented on the vampire double feature she had promised (or threatened), and instead stuck to more standard fare. She was pleasantly surprised to see how closely their tastes matched (except for horror). Neither of them cared much for tearjerkers, preferring film noir classics such as _The Killers_ and _Touch of Evil_. They both loved movies that were somewhat dark. He blew her mind one night when _Sweet Smell of Success_ came on Turner Classic and he claimed to have seen it close to a hundred times. 

She didn’t believe him until he started quoting the dialogue word for word as the movie played. After about ten minutes she laughed and said, “Okay, I believe you!” 

He grinned at her and said, “So, would you say I’m a cookie full of arsenic?” 

She looked him over. “You mean, sweet and dangerous at the same time?” 

“That’s me in a nutshell, darling.”

She chuckled. “Dangerous to my virtue, maybe.”

“I’ve never had much use for virtue,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her neck. Soon they both forgot about the movie.

Moments like these made Sara think that she might have found her soulmate. But there were other aspects to their relationship that were less encouraging. In fact, they were downright puzzling.

His touch, for example. Penn was very physically affectionate and he was always touching her hair or her arm or her face. She loved the contact and she loved touching him too, but his skin was always cold regardless of the temperature. She’d heard couples make jokes about one partner having icy feet in bed, but Penn’s entire body was icy all the time. He never seemed to feel the effects of heat or cold. He didn’t sweat, even during the most vigorous bedroom activities. Some nights after sex play Sara lay in bed, spent and drenched, while Penn was completely dry beside her. She couldn’t understand how that was possible. 

Now that the nights were getting cooler the lower temperatures didn’t seem to affect him either. He never wore anything heavier than his black sport jacket. He insisted that he wasn’t sick and that his icy skin and inability to sweat were just quirks of his particular physiology. He seemed healthy enough – surely a sick man wouldn’t have the strength or the sex drive that Penn had. 

His cold skin was odd but in the end it was just a quirk. She had a bigger issue to worry about. Penn still wouldn’t stay the night. It was routine by now for him to leave an hour or so before dawn. Whenever she asked him about this the answer was always the same: his schedule was crazy and he had a lot of early appointments. 

She hated feeling abandoned. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t stay until her alarm went off, have coffee with her, and then go to whatever appointments he had. They came close to fighting about this. But Penn either could not or would not change his schedule, no matter what she said. Eventually she realized that she had no choice but to accept things as they were. But that didn’t mean she liked them. 

When they started getting together during the week they both realized that it would be inconsiderate of him to wake her up that early just so she could lock the door behind him when he left. The alternative was for him to leave her asleep in an unlocked apartment and she didn’t feel safe doing that. She gave him a key so that he could let himself out and lock up, thereby allowing her to continue sleeping for another hour or so until it was time to get up for work. 

The arrangement worked quite well. Penn was very careful not to make any noise as he slipped out of bed, dressed, and left the apartment. She slept through his departure, waking only when the alarm clock got her at seven a.m. The first time he did this he left her a little note taped to the bathroom mirror. It was short and sweet, just a few lines: 

_“Darling. Last night was wonderful. See you again soon. Penn.”_

He signed his name with that Declaration of Independence flourish that she loved so much. 

She read and reread the note. Her heart beat faster. She stroked her index finger over the paper that he had touched just a short while ago. She raised the paper to her nose and tried to catch a whiff of his scent. There was nothing, of course. All she had were his words.

She read the note again and was swept with such a longing for him that it made her dizzy. _I’ve got it bad_ , she thought, smiling.

But when the rush of emotion passed, something less pretty remained behind. A suspicion was growing in the back of her mind. Was he going home to another girlfriend – or a wife? She didn’t want to entertain such thoughts, but they would not go away. 

Her suspicion grew when she suggested that they go to his place and he said, “Why would you want to see my messy little bachelor pad in the seedy part of town? Your place is so cozy and cheerful.” 

“I want to see where you live,” she said. “I’m curious about you. I want to see your décor. I want to look out your window. I want to sleep in your bed. I just want to know about _you_ , Penn.”

He smiled and shook his head. “My place is dreary. My window looks out on a construction site that’s been abandoned for three months. The décor is drab and my bed is lumpy, nowhere near as soft as yours. I don’t always pick up my clothes from the floor and I have a stack of dirty dishes in the sink. It’s just like any other single man’s apartment, Sara. Trust me, there is nothing special about it.”

“Of course there is,” she said. “You live there.”

His eyes widened. “Oh.” He ran his fingers through his spiky hair and cleared his throat. Seconds passed as he shuffled his feet and looked away from her. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. A slow smile creased his lips.

Finally he laughed softly and said, “Well, this is rare. I’m actually speechless, Sara. You are so…sweet. That word doesn’t do you justice.” He opened his arms. “Come here.”

She stepped into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. She gave herself over to his embrace but the nagging little questions remained. Why was he reluctant for her to see where he lived? Even if he did live in a “messy bachelor pad”, she wasn’t so fussy that a little dirt or clutter would faze her. As for the drab décor and lumpy bed – those things didn’t matter to her. And she didn’t care if his window looked out on a garbage dump. She just wanted to see him in his natural habitat. 

Was he worried about her safety in his neighborhood? As she had told her mother, crime in the city had never been lower. She watched the news and read the papers. People weren’t shooting each other in the streets. Most neighborhoods were okay as long as you used good judgment and paid attention to your surroundings. And although she didn’t know Penn’s exact address, she did know that he lived in what he called the “hippie bohemian” part of town. The area wasn’t known for violent crime. And if she visited him she would go there by cab and come home the same way. She doubted that some crazed junkie would pounce on her in the time it took for her to get from the car to Penn’s door.

There was another possible reason for him to keep her away from his apartment: the hypothetical other woman. The suspicion kept rearing its head no matter what she did. 

Sometimes she could feel the questions bubbling up inside her, pushing their way up her throat, piling up behind her clenched teeth. Demanding to be let out. _Why do you leave before dawn? Why won’t you let me see your apartment? Are you married, Penn?_ But she would not let herself ask them. She wanted to know the truth but at the same time she was terrified of it. If she forced the issue she might get answers that would bring about the end of their relationship. She couldn’t bear that. So she pushed the questions away, although they never left her mind entirely. 

She paid a pretty high emotional price for pushing away the questions. Some nights when she was alone and couldn’t sleep, nasty little thoughts popped up in her mind. Chief among them was the certainty that another woman held a claim to Penn’s heart. The thought made her insides burn white-hot, as if her guts were full of acid scalding her from the inside out. She imagined this hypothetical woman laughing at her, calling her a naïve little girl. 

_Penn’s mine_ , this faceless woman taunted her. _He’s just amusing himself with you. He will always choose me because I can give him what he needs. You can’t._

Sara didn’t even know if this woman existed, but she still wanted to scratch her eyes out. In the light of day her reaction seemed extreme, but at two in the morning it felt reasonable. 

When these spasms of jealousy passed, she told herself that she had to have the truth. Past experience had taught her that avoiding confrontation never made things better – in fact, it usually made them worse. She learned this bitter lesson most recently with Greg. 

If Penn had another woman in his life, Sara would have no choice but to dump him no matter how much it hurt. She would have to do it for her own self-respect. This was why she had to ask those bottled-up questions. 

And it was also why she was terrified to ask them.


	14. Girls' Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Trish reconnect, and Sara finds out what Trish has been up to the past few weeks.

“Hi hon.” Sara’s heart leaped at the sound of Trish’s voice. She wished she could reach through the phone and hug her friend.

“Hello, stranger,” she said.

Trish chuckled. “I guess I deserved that. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I called to make amends.”

“Consider them made, sweetie. It’s good to hear your voice. Kim told me you were working on a project.”

“Yeah, I was. And I want to tell you about what I’ve been up to. Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Sure, tomorrow night’s good. What do you want to do?”

“Matt has to work late, so I have the place to myself. I was thinking we could order from Hot Wok. Just a girls’ night. Like old times. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds awesome.”

“Great. I’ll order before you come over. Their delivery can be a little slow sometimes. Hot and sour soup with scallion pancakes for you?”

Sara smiled. “You remembered. Perfect.”

“And I’ll make sure there’s plenty of Yuengling.”

“Even more perfect.”

“Great. About seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Super.” A pause. “Listen, Sara. I’m sorry things have been a little off between us the last few weeks. I want to explain what’s been going on.”

“Trish. No need to apologize. Real life stuff happens. I just hope everything’s okay with you.”

“Oh yeah, I’m great. I’ve been working hard, and there’s this project. I really want to talk with you about it tomorrow night.”

“Okay. See you at seven.”

“Looking forward to it.”

*****

Sara showed up promptly at seven, as nervous as if she were starting her first day of school. Trish answered the door, looking comfy in her ripped jeans and Iron Man T-shirt. “Hey, sweetie.” They hugged, although Sara could only do so one-armed, as her other hand was occupied with a shopping bag.

“What’s in the bag?” Trish nodded at the Food Emporium bag as they entered the apartment.

“My contribution to the festivities. You’re supplying my favorite beer, so I figured the least I could do was provide dessert. Ta-da!” She reached into the bag and pulled out a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Mint Oreo Cookie ice cream.

“You witch. That’s my kryptonite. You’re trying to make me fat.” Trish giggled.

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t get fat if you ate a pint of this every day for a month. You’ve got one of those amped up metabolisms.”

“Well, we’re having Chinese food, beer and ice cream tonight, so we’re really putting that theory to the test.” Trish took the ice cream from her. “C’mon in and grab a beer. I ordered the food a half hour ago. It should be here any minute.”

They moved into the kitchen. Trish stashed the ice cream in the freezer and Sara pulled out beers for both of them. They seated themselves at the kitchen table and made small talk while they waited for the food. Sara was dying to ask Trish about her mysterious project but held back, figuring that Trish would talk about it when she was ready.

After about fifteen minutes the food arrived. Sara poured out a small bowl of the hot and sour soup for Trish and they set up everything else in a makeshift buffet on the table. Talk ceased as they dug in. 

For Sara this felt so familiar and welcome. They had spent many evenings like this, hanging out with Chinese food or pizza and beer. Sometimes Val and Kim joined them, and other times it was just the two of them. They would talk for hours about their jobs, their families, their boyfriends. She had missed this closeness over the last few weeks. Things could go back to normal now. Maybe Sara would tell her about Penn’s odd little quirks. She had an idea of what Trish would say about the early departures, but it would still be nice to confide in her.

When they finished eating Sara and Trish packed up the leftovers. “Take as much of this stuff home as you want, okay?” said Trish. 

“Thanks, I just might do that.”

“Ready for ice cream?”

“You know what, I’m stuffed. Maybe later?”

“Sure.” They put the leftovers in the fridge and took out more beer. They settled in at the kitchen table once again.

“So how’s Penn?” Trish’s tone was carefully neutral.

“He’s fine. We’ve been seeing each other a lot.” Sara told her about seeing Aaron King at After Eight and Trish smiled. 

“So you two are serious,” she said.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

“Hmmm.” Trish toyed with her beer bottle. “Well, this leads into the project I’ve been working on.”

Sara raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Trish took a deep breath and looked Sara in the eyes. “Before I get into it, I just want you to know that I care about you very much, Sara. You’re practically my sister. I would never do anything to hurt you. And I’d do anything in my power to keep you from being hurt. I want you to be happy. You know that, right?” 

“Well, yeah. Of course I know that, Trish.” Sara squinted at her. “What are you getting at?”

“Just…please believe me when I say that I did what I did out of concern for you.”

“What did you do, Trish?” It was a struggle to keep her voice from quavering.

“There was something about him that just didn’t ring true that night at Mimosa.” The words tumbled out of Trish’s mouth as if she had been holding them in for weeks. “After we got home I said to Matt, ‘Something’s not right. He’s not what he seems to be.’ And Matt thought I was overreacting, but I _knew_ , I just knew in my gut ‒”

“Trish. What did you do.”

Trish took a long swallow of beer. “I started looking for information about Penn.”

“What? What kind of information?” The food she had eaten turned into a brick in her stomach.

“I wanted to know who he is. I didn’t have much to go on. Not even a last name.” Trish shook her head. “He only goes by one name? What is he, Prince?”

Sara simply stared at her.

Trish went on. “So I started with Google. I searched for the name Penn and got tons of hits on Penn State, Penn Station in New York, that magician guy. But nothing on your man. I narrowed the search to ‘Penn artist’, and got nothing. I tried ‘Penn artist’ and a lot of different city-state combinations, but still nothing. I even threw London into the mix. Zip. So I had to try something else.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” said Sara. She looked down and realized that she was clutching her beer bottle very tightly. With an effort she made herself let go.

Trish gave her a pained look. “Please, bear with me. I only did this out of concern for you.”

Sara folded her arms and sat back in her chair. “Fine. Go on, then. You’ve made me curious.”

“There are a couple of search engines that will let you try finding someone with only their first name. But I struck out there too. I’ve got to hand it to your man. He’s managed to leave almost no digital footprint. He’s not even on Facebook.”

“The nerve of him,” said Sara.

Trish ignored her sarcasm. “So I had to try it the hard way. I started talking to people. I talked to Drew at Tempo. I described Penn, asked him if he knew about any new artists by that name or who fit that description. He didn’t. So I went to some of the other galleries. I struck out there too. I talked to people in our group of friends, especially the ones in the art community. My friends, Matt’s friends – I asked them, and then they asked their friends. It was like that old shampoo commercial: I told two friends, and they told two friends, and so on, and so on. This isn’t New York or L.A. – the community’s not that big here. Between the galleries and our friends I was able to cover pretty much all of it. Matt said I was being obsessive, but I told him I had to do this.”

As Trish spoke her eyes gleamed a little and a slight smile turned up the corners of her mouth. She even spoke a little faster. Sara had seen this before. Trish was a puzzle fanatic. Crosswords, Sudoku, word searches, jumbles – she loved them all. When she was deeply involved in trying to figure out a particularly difficult clue, she became very excited. The smile, the gleam, the fast speech all expressed that sense of _I’m on the chase_. She probably wasn’t even aware she was doing it. Normally it was endearing, but right now Sara found it aggravating as hell.

“What were you looking for, Trish?” she said. “Did you think he was a fugitive?”

Trish gave her a puzzled look. “Well…that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? I didn’t know what he was.”

“And it never occurred to you to ask me? Or Penn?”

“Well, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t get a straight answer from Penn. And you…don’t take this the wrong way, sweetie, but you’re a little too close to the situation. You’re not objective.”

“And _you_ are? I know you don’t like Penn.”

A pained expression crossed Trish’s face. “You probably won’t believe this right now, but I don’t have any malice towards Penn. I just wanted to get the facts.”

Sara’s throat was suddenly very dry. She took another drink of beer. “Okay. So did you get the facts? I assume there’s a point to all this.”

“Well, I didn’t have much more luck with the artists than I had with my online search. Nobody knew the guy. He doesn’t appear to be part of the community.”

“Maybe he’s just keeping a low profile.”

Trish looked doubtful. “I suppose that could be the case, but most of the artists I know like to get out and make connections. It’s not about hanging around in a garret anymore. If you want to be a success, you have to put yourself out there. The right contact can mean a lot, and you never know where you will find it. Networking’s not just for the nine-to-fivers.” 

She frowned. “Which reminds me of something else that tripped my alarm that night at Mimosa. Penn was awfully indifferent when Matt offered to look at his work. I could understand if he was shy or insecure, but Penn doesn’t strike me as the shy, insecure type. I got the sense that he couldn’t care less. That just didn’t ring true to me. Why wouldn’t he want Matt to see his work, especially if it could help his career? Unless there wasn’t any career.” 

Sara shifted in her seat. Trish’s conclusion was uncomfortably close to the thoughts she’d had that night in the cab. Penn’s apparent indifference to Matt’s offer had struck her as odd. Trish’s point about the importance of contacts now made it seem even odder. Her uneasiness grew.

“Have you ever seen his work, Sara?” Trish’s voice was soft, concerned.

She couldn’t look her friend in the eye. “I’ve asked. He says he doesn’t want to show me until he’s sure it’s perfect.” The words sounded so lame as she spoke them.

“So for all you know there isn’t any work to see.”

“Maybe he’s a perfectionist, have you ever considered that?”

Trish’s lips were set in a grim line. “Perfectionism only explains so much. At some point every artist has to show _somebody_ his work. Especially when it can do him some good.”

Trish’s kitchen all of a sudden felt too warm, too close. Sweat trickled down from Sara’s hairline. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to maintain some equilibrium.

“So what are you saying?” she said. “You think he’s a fake?”

Trish hesitated, then said, “I wouldn’t say fake, exactly. More like…a poseur.”

Sara was about to say that she didn’t see a difference between the two when another thought occurred to her. “Wait. What about that guy who brought him to your party? What’s his name. Jason.”

“ _Justin_.”

“Oh, excuse me. Your sainted friend Justin. Did you talk to him while you were playing detective?”

“You don’t need to be snarky, Sara. I didn’t do this out of –”

“Out of malice, I know. You said that already. So did you talk to him or not?” Her heart was beating faster now.

“He’s been out of town the last few weeks. His father had a heart attack and Justin went home to help his mom. So I had to wait. His dad’s doing much better now, and Justin came back about a week ago. I had a talk with him and Abby Monday night.”

“Okay, so they were probably able to answer your questions about Penn.”

“Well, kind of.”

She frowned at Trish. “Kind of? What do you mean, kind of?”

Trish sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I asked them the same thing I’ve been asking everyone for the past month. Did they know this guy named Penn? About five-ten, spiky blond hair, glasses? And I asked them if they brought him to my party.” She fell silent, picking at the label on her beer bottle. Her eyes fixed on the bottle as if it contained all the answers in the universe.

Sara waited. Her entire body was tense. She was sure that she was going to scream if Trish didn’t get to the point in the next sixty seconds. She stared hard at her friend, willing her to say that Justin and his girlfriend had told her that they were great friends with Penn and hung out with him all the time. 

Although if they were such good friends, why hadn’t Penn introduced her to them? She stifled the question. The last thing she needed right now was another question.

Pick. Pick. Pick. Trish’s fingers peeled off a tiny strip from the label. 

Sara’s face suddenly felt very hot. Her apprehension grew stronger with every second of Trish’s silence. 

Another strip came off the label. 

She could stand it no longer. “For God’s sake, Trish. Spit it out.”

Trish’s eyes met hers. Sara flinched from the misery in her expression. “They don’t know him.”

Sara opened her mouth. Closed it. Her insides felt as if they had been scooped out of her. “They…what?”

“I asked them to think back to the night of my party. Did they come with anybody who looked like the man I described? Justin had no idea what I was talking about. But then Abby said to him, ‘Wait, what about the guy we met outside Trish’s building?’ And then Justin remembered.”

Sara was numb. This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening…

“That night they came to my building and this blond guy was standing outside. Justin talked to him, asked him if he was here for the party. That’s how Justin is. He talks to everybody, he’s like a big puppy dog. The blond guy said he was here for the party, and Justin said so were they, and he suggested that they go up together. So they all went inside and they chatted a little bit while they were waiting for the elevator. No deep conversation, they just exchanged names and made a little small talk. Once they got to my apartment they parted ways and they never saw or spoke to the blond guy again. They didn’t even remember his name. They forgot all about him until I brought him up.”

“I don’t understand. He said he knew them. He talked about Justin’s art, for God’s sake!”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Trish really did look sorry. In fact, she looked as if she might cry at any second. “It looks like Penn crashed the party.”

“But why would he do that? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Trish shrugged. “I’ve had party crashers before. Who knows why they do it? The last time it happened the guy was so obvious I made him right away. But Penn’s good, I’ll give him that. He looked me right in the eye and acted like he belonged.”

Sara didn’t respond, just stared helplessly at Trish. A dull pain started in her temples. She felt unmoored, as if she had been stranded in deep space with no way to get back to Earth.

“You have to confront him, Sara. Because if he lied about how he came to be at the party, what else has he lied about? He could hurt you if you’re not careful.”

Sara didn’t respond. All she could think was that her worst fear had come true. She had ignored her misgivings and doubts, had pushed away her questions, and what good had it done her? The delicate little paradise she had been building with Penn was crumbling all around her. 

She looked at Trish’s earnest face and was surprised to feel a hot, quick spike of anger. Paradise was ruined and with every word Trish was grinding it even deeper into the dirt.

“Well, I guess you’re happy now,” she said. 

“Happy? Are you kidding me? How could I be happy about this?” 

Sara didn’t respond, just glared at her. 

“Oh, okay, you got me, Sara. I couldn’t wait for you to come over so I could wreck your relationship. I’ve been licking my chops thinking about how devastated you would be. Give me a fucking break. Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me?”

Sara held up one finger. “Don’t. Just don’t. You disappeared for a month so you could go behind my back to play Nancy Drew and dig up dirt on my boyfriend. Now you drop this pile of shit on my plate, you turn my world upside down, and I’m supposed to feel sorry for you? _No_. You don’t get to play the martyr.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Trish stared hard at her. “You’re angry with me? Why are you angry with me? What about him? _He crashed the party, Sara_. And he lied about it. He’s been pretending to be something he isn’t. Doesn’t he deserve a little of your anger?” 

Sara didn’t trust herself to speak. She knew that her anger was irrational. Trish had acted out of concern for her. And she was right. Penn had some explaining to do. But the anger was still there, regardless of how reasonable she tried to be. 

“Sara? Aren’t you just a little curious about him? What do you really know about him?”

This would be a perfect time to confide in Trish about Penn’s refusal to stay the night and his reluctance to let her see his apartment. It was the kind of thing you discussed with your best friend. But if Sara told her about Penn’s secretiveness, Trish would pounce on it and parade it around the room as evidence supporting her claims. Something about that prospect just galled her.

She drained the last of the Yuengling. Her hands shook as she replaced the bottle on the table.

Trish saw her shaking hands. “Sara,” she said. Her tone of voice was softer, gentler. “I know this is hard for you to hear. You’re crazy about the guy. I saw it that night at Mimosa. I saw it tonight when you talked about him. But you should know everything about him before you give him your heart, don’t you see that? You don’t want him to hurt you the way Greg hurt you.”

“Don’t bring Greg into this. Penn is nothing like Greg.”

“Then let him prove it by being honest with you. If he isn’t an artist, what does he do? How does he support himself? These are legit questions, Sara. You have a right to know the answers.” 

She paused, frowning, as if a thought had just occurred to her. “He hasn’t asked you for money, has he?”

“He hasn’t taken a dime from me.” But this opened up yet another new line of inquiry. How _did_ he make his money? 

“So, does he have a regular job?”

“I, uh, don’t know.” Damn it, they had already established that she knew very little about Penn. Why was Trish rubbing her face in it?

“Well, that leaves only a few options, hon. Either he has a straight job, or he’s a trust fund baby, or he’s a criminal. Have you ever seen him with drugs? Weed, pills, that kind of thing?”

“Now you think he’s a dealer?”

Trish shrugged. “It’s one way to make money.”

“No, I’ve never seen him with drugs. As far as I know, the strongest thing he takes is Scotch.” The words slapped her with a cruel irony as soon as she spoke them. _As far as I know_. Not far at all, apparently.

She thought about the lingerie he had bought for her. Joie De Vivre didn’t sell cheap stuff. On a whim she had visited their website one night and found the outfit he had given her. It cost close to three hundred dollars. The price took her breath away. When he gave it to her he said that money wasn’t a problem for him, and she had never given any thought to where his money came from. But now that Trish had raised the issue she couldn’t ignore it.

“Maybe he is a trust fund baby,” she said. 

Trish nodded. “Could be. Maybe he’s playing at being an artist because it helps him get girls.”

That spike of anger glowed inside her again. “Stupid girls like me, you mean.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Sara. Nobody’s calling you stupid!”

“No, of course not.” The anger was swirling around inside her, looking for a target. “Just gullible and naïve.”

“Who said those words? There must be someone else in the room with us because I know I didn’t.” Trish made a point of looking around the kitchen. 

“You implied them.” Sara spoke in a low, harsh tone. “You think I’m not smart enough to look out for myself. You think I need you to check out my boyfriends for me.”

“I’m just looking out for you, honey.”

“Yeah, well who the hell asked you to?”

Trish’s eyes widened and Sara felt a flicker of remorse. That was an unkind and unfair thing to say. But at the moment she wasn’t in the mood to be kind or fair. 

She stood up. “You know, I just can’t help wondering…where were you and your amazing detective skills when Greg was cheating on me? Because that’s when I really could have used them.” 

She grabbed her purse, found her wallet and pulled out a handful of bills. A couple of fives and a bunch of singles. She dropped the money on the table, not knowing or caring if it was enough to cover her share of the meal. “Thanks for dinner.”

Trish jumped up. “Sara, wait. Don’t leave like this.”

Sara walked down the hall. Trish followed her, begging her to stop, but Sara didn’t respond.

She reached the door and Trish stopped right behind her. “Sara. Come back. Let’s talk about this.”

Without turning around Sara said, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say, is there?”

“So that’s it? We’re quits? You’re going to just throw away five years of friendship. For _him_? Does Penn mean that much to you?”

Sara put her hand on the doorknob but didn’t open the door. She lowered her head and let out a long sigh. Then she turned around to face Trish. She was surprised to see her friend had tears in her eyes. Her own eyes stung.

“No,” she murmured. “I don’t want to be quits, Trish. I just – I need to think. It’s all a little much. I feel like I just got hit by a bus.”

“Okay, honey, I get that. Maybe I pushed you a little too hard. You go ahead and think about what I said. But promise me you’ll talk to Penn and get to the bottom of this. For your own peace of mind.”

Sara took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m going to call him as soon as I get home.”

“Okay, good.” Trish put her arms around Sara. “I never wanted to hurt you, honey. I’m so sorry if I did.” 

Sara was stiff in Trish’s embrace for a moment before putting her arms around her friend. “I know, hon. You meant well. And I’m sorry I acted the way I did.” 

She sighed and patted Trish’s back a couple of times before gently pulling away. Trish resisted for a second and then let her go. Sara opened the apartment door and stepped out into the hall. The air felt a little fresher and cooler out here.

“Call me,” said Trish. “Let me know how it goes with Penn.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

*****

The eight block walk home was a blur. Sara’s head whirled with the evening’s events. She went back and forth between anger at Trish for butting into her business and anger at Penn for lying to her. It was clear that the man had something to hide. The time had come to confront him. She should do it tonight, before she lost her nerve. 

She finally made it back to her apartment. Once inside she checked her watch and was surprised to see that it was only nine forty-five. It felt as if she had spent hours in Trish’s apartment.

Still early enough to talk to Penn. Without even taking her jacket off she grabbed her phone and dialed his number.

He answered on the second ring. “Hello, beautiful. Did your girls’ night break up early?”

She closed her eyes and ignored the shiver that his voice always gave her. “I have to see you, Penn. Right now.” Her voice broke on the last word. 

“What’s wrong?” The lazy purr disappeared from his voice. He sounded fully alert and concerned. “Sara? Did something happen?”

“Yes. Something’s happened. I can’t talk about it over the phone. Just…come over as soon as you can. Please.”

“I can be there in thirty minutes.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

“I’m leaving right now.” 

After hanging up her jacket Sara wandered into the kitchen, threw her purse on a chair and poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. She drained the glass in a few swallows, then poured some more. Chinese food and stress always made her thirsty. 

The bell rang twenty-five minutes after her call. Her pulse slammed her throat as she buzzed him up. She had no idea what she was going to say to him. She only knew that she mustn’t allow Penn to distract her. Tonight of all nights she had to stay focused.


	15. Tell Me Who You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara confronts Penn and demands that he tell her the truth about himself. She is not prepared for his response.

When Penn knocked Sara immediately opened the door. He looked at her, eyes wide and serious behind his glasses. “Hi.” 

He leaned in to kiss her and at the last second Sara moved her head a little so that the kiss landed on her cheek instead of her lips. He pulled back and looked at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “So what’s going on?”

“Come in and I’ll tell you all about it.” Her voice was flat.

She didn’t take his jacket the way she usually did, nor did she offer him a drink. These things had become a kind of ritual when he visited. If Penn noticed this departure from her hostess routine he didn’t say anything. He simply walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Sara followed, taking a seat at the end, just out of his reach.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “Okay,” he said. “What happened? You were so excited about your night with Trish. Did you two have a fight?”

“Not a fight, exactly,” she said. “But things got pretty heated. It had to do with you.”

He blinked at her. “Me?”

“Yeah.” She briefly summarized the evening’s events. Penn listened quietly, not interrupting. His eyes widened when she told him about Trish’s detective expedition, and grew wider still when she told him what Trish had said about Justin. 

Somehow she managed to keep from crying as she told her story, and when she was done she looked him in the eye and said, “So how about it, Penn? Is it true?”

Penn sighed. “Trish is a good friend,” he said. “Right now I wish she was less good.” 

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “It means that she didn’t find out all my secrets but she found out a couple of them.”

Her body slumped. “So she was right. You crashed the party, you lied about being an artist, you lied about knowing her friends. What else have you lied about?”

“Well, ‘lied’ is not the word I would choose,” he said. “I didn’t lie, exactly. I…omitted certain details and exaggerated others.”

“Oh, enough already! You talk your way out of everything and I always let you. I’ve had it!”

Penn held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay. I admit it. I crashed the party.”

“Why?”

“I acted on impulse. I was walking around, no particular destination. I stopped to rest outside an apartment building, and this guy came up to me and started talking about a party.” 

“Justin.”

“That’s right.” He shrugged. “I was bored. Going to a party sounded interesting. It was different from my normal routine. So I decided to go with him and his girlfriend. When he told me about his art and Trish’s arty friends, I was so jealous of him. I wanted to _be_ him. I love the arts and I really admire people who have that vision. People treat you differently when you say you’re an artist. So I decided to play that role at the party. I thought I’d never see any of those people again, so what was the harm in posing?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “But I didn’t count on two things. First, there was you. I didn’t expect us to become as close as we have. That was a very pleasant surprise.” He smiled at her and her heart ached.

“We kept getting closer and I didn’t know how to undo the lie. I hoped you’d forget about it. But then there was Trish. She and her boyfriend were so knowledgeable about the art scene. That was the second thing I didn’t count on. I knew it was just a matter of time until my lie was discovered.”

Sara sat quietly, digesting Penn’s information. She didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“Sara, I never intended to deceive you. It was a pose that got out of control. I meant no harm.”

She sighed. “I want to believe you. But things have to change, Penn. We’ve been seeing each other for over a month now, and there’s so much about you that’s a mystery. I don’t want any more mysteries. I want the truth. Starting now.”

“I agree,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you everything about myself. Your friend has forced my hand.”

“Forget about Trish. It’s just you and me now. All I ask is that you be honest. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes. I can do that.”

This was the moment she had been dreading. She swallowed hard and said, “I want you to tell me why you never stay the night. You leave before dawn and you always say it’s because of your schedule. I’m not buying it anymore. I have to know: are you going home to a wife or another girlfriend? Is that why we never go to your place?”

He stared at her. “Do you really think I would hurt you like that?”

“Well, this is what happens when you’re so mysterious. My imagination fills in the gaps.” 

“Point taken.” 

“So answer my question. Is there someone else? Because if there is, then I can’t see you anymore.” Her voice came close to breaking but she managed to get the words out. “I won’t be ‘the other woman’. I don’t deserve to be a cliché.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “Let me ease your mind. I’m not married. Never been married. And I am not seeing anyone else.” He smiled at her. “There is only you, Sara.”

The tightness in her chest eased, but only a little, because the bigger question still needed an answer. “So why do you leave, then?”

“I have to leave because it’s dangerous for me to be out in the daylight.”

“Dangerous? Why? Are you hiding from someone? Are you some kind of criminal?”

He hesitated, then said, “No, not exactly. But I am an outlaw.”

She shook her head. Frustration surged inside her. “That doesn’t make sense. Quit playing games, Penn. Just give me a straight answer. Who are you?”

“Perhaps a better question is, _What_ am I?”

She was about to scold him again when he went on: “Remember that first night, when I drank your blood?”

“Ha. I’ll never forget it.”

“I wasn’t honest with you about why I did that. It wasn’t a sexual kink. I was feeding.”

“Feeding.” She stared at him. “You mean like a vampire?”

He nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

“Damn it, Penn!” Her voice rose again. “I’ve had a really shitty night and I’m not in the mood to play games. Stop kidding around.”

He frowned at her. “Who says I’m kidding?”

Her heart did a nasty double thump. “You’re not kidding?”

“Not at all. I’m a vampire, Sara.” 

She rubbed her forehead and laughed. “Great. Just great. This could only happen to me. I go to one party all year, I meet a cute guy, and he’s a nutjob who thinks he’s a vampire. I should have known you were too good to be true.”

At the words “cute guy” Penn arched an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth quirked upwards into a sly smile. She could have slapped herself for saying that. 

“For your information, darling, I’m not crazy,” he said. “I really am a vampire. And that’s why I have to leave you before sunrise. Because the sun will make me burst into flames.”

“Okay, this isn’t funny anym‒”

His face warped and suddenly she was looking at the demon she had seen the night of Trish’s party. His eyes glowed a lurid red, his mouth dropped open impossibly wide to reveal pearly white fangs. The fangs looked very sharp as they gleamed in the light from the living room lamp. 

She yelped and threw herself back against the arm of the couch. Her heart slammed in her chest. She wanted to scream but her throat was locked up tight. She shut her eyes. A voice in the back of her mind shouted for her to run, but she couldn’t move a muscle.

“Sara. Look at me.” His voice was calm, yet commanding. She couldn’t resist it. She opened her eyes.

The monster was still there. She pushed away her revulsion and forced herself to study his face. His brow ridge protruded outward, creating an unnaturally high forehead. His eyes blazed out at her from the dark pits of their sockets. He looked like a caveman, brutish and alien. There was no trace of the Penn she knew.

 _This_ was her lover? This creature?

“It’s not like the movies, is it?” he said. 

Penn’s calm, cultured voice coming from that horrific face was too much to bear. She put her hands over her mouth to stifle a whimper.

“Please don’t be afraid of me, Sara. It’s still me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

And just like that the leering demon was gone and she was looking at Penn’s handsome face again. 

_Oh my God._ His face really had changed that night. She hadn’t imagined it. 

He wasn’t a criminal, a drug dealer, or a two-timing husband – he was something much worse. 

“Believe me now?” he asked.

She nodded. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t catch her breath. 

“Hey.” Penn’s voice came to her as if from a great distance. “You still with me, Sara?”

She swallowed hard and took a couple of deep breaths. “I don’t know,” she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She couldn’t stop trembling. 

“You’re a little pale. Do you think that you might faint? Shall I get you some water?” He reached out as if to touch her face.

“ _No_. Don’t touch me. Keep away from me.” Penn blinked and lowered his hand. 

She wrapped her arms around herself and curled into a ball against the arm of the couch. “God,” she murmured. “I can’t believe this is happening. I am such an idiot.”

“That’s not true,” said Penn. “Why do you say that?”

She glared at him, still trembling, but now anger was beginning to overtake the fear. “I saw your face that night. Just before I passed out. I made myself believe that it was a hallucination. I had to believe that, because vampires don’t exist, right?”

He didn’t respond.

“So many things make sense now. I only see you at night. You never eat. You’re pale and your skin is cold. And that damned bite. But I never put it all together, because you had an explanation for everything. Food allergies. Crazy schedules. Kinky bite fetishes. It was all bullshit – _and I believed it_!” 

Her tears were flowing freely now. “I believed all your crazy excuses. I believed you because I was falling for you. So if that doesn’t make me a frigging idiot, what does it make me?”

“Just what you said. A woman who is falling in love.” Penn’s voice was calm, soothing. 

“Shit. I can’t love you.” Her voice was hoarse. There was a hot, painful lump in her throat.

“You can’t? Are you saying you don’t want me?” He didn’t sound hurt, just curious.

“Want you? Do I _want_ you?” She would not let herself answer that question. But that didn’t stop the memories from flooding back. All the things they had done…

She moaned, “Oh my God, I let you touch me. And put your _mouth_ on me.” 

“You certainly did. And as I recall, you enjoyed my touch, Sara.” 

She didn’t respond. Her face burned. 

“You touched me too, remember? With those lovely soft hands of yours.”

She stared at him. The image of that demonic face – _his_ face! – flickered behind her eyelids. 

“We’ve given each other so much pleasure, Sara. Haven’t we?” He smiled. Her heart melted just a little. 

“Yes,” she whispered.

“We’ve been so close. Do you really think you can turn off your feelings for me just like you’d turn off a radio?”

“I – I don’t know if I can. I just know that I have to.”

“Why?”

She stared at him. “Are you serious? You’re a monster, Penn. How can I love a monster?”

“Monster is such an ugly word,” he chided. “As a member of the undead community, I find it offensive. I prefer to think of myself as ‘humanity-impaired’. That’s more politically correct, wouldn’t you say?”

How could he be so damned cavalier? “You can make all the jokes you want. Call yourself whatever you want, I don’t care. I say you’re a monster.” 

He nodded. “I respect your honesty.”

“You do, huh? Good. Now it’s your turn to be honest. You drink blood. Do you kill people too?”

Penn’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t ask questions unless you’re prepared for the answers.”

“I haven’t been prepared for anything that’s happened tonight. Just tell me.”

He sighed. “Okay. Fine. The answer is yes. I’ve killed people. Don’t ask me how many ‒ I’ve lived for over three centuries. Let’s just say ‘a lot’ and leave it at that.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. There was a buzzing sound in her head. “What made you this way? Were you attacked by a vampire?”

“No, I wasn’t attacked. I was willing. More than willing.” He smiled, as if recalling a fond memory. “Remember that guru I told you about? That’s who turned me. He was my best friend. His name was Angelus. I didn’t know he was a vampire until he bit me. I felt his power, and I begged him to make me just like him.”

She stared at him. “You _wanted_ this?”

“You didn’t know me as a mortal, Sara. I was weak. Pathetic. The family joke. I told you a little about my relationship with my father. He was a cruel, cold man. He never missed a chance to belittle me. And it wasn’t just him. My brother and sister treated me the same way. My teachers. And women…especially women.”

“So you became a vampire because you had daddy issues and you wanted to get girls?” 

Penn frowned. “Don’t mock me. You don’t know how things were for me. You weren’t there.”

“I didn’t have to be there to know that those are some piss-poor reasons for giving up your humanity,” she said. “I have problems with my parents and I have had terrible luck with relationships, but you don’t see me signing up to become a blood-drinking monster.”

He gave her a cold stare. “Well, well. I’m in the presence of a morally superior being. The glow from your halo is blinding me, Sara. How’s the view from your perch on that high horse?”

“I’m not saying I’m better than you!” she snapped. “I really am trying to understand you, Penn. Help me understand.”

“You have no idea what drove me to choose this.” His eyes were dark blue, the color of a stormy sea. “How can you? You have no frame of reference. Consider the era I lived in. Today you have options that I never dreamed of. When I was human, life was narrower. Roles were rigidly defined. You were born into a certain class and you had to behave a certain way. And on top of all that, I was born and raised a Puritan. You’ve heard of us? Maybe in that history class you told me about?”

“Yes, yes, I know about the Puritans.”

“You do? Then you know that we wrote the book on repression.”

“I was raised Catholic,” she said. “We wrote a few chapters of that book.”

“So you’re familiar with the subject.” His shoulders slumped and his eyes lost that bright, angry glint. “There’s not a lot of joy in Puritanism, Sara. Not much mercy, either. I was a normal, healthy young man, with a young man’s appetites. I wanted things that my religion told me I wasn’t supposed to want. My father saw me looking at a woman in the street and he told me that my lust would damn my soul to hell. I had to study harder, pray harder, and even that might not be enough to save me. He told me that I was worthless in his eyes, but I was even more worthless in God’s eyes.” 

He looked at Sara, his eyes full of pain that hadn’t healed even after three centuries. “Can you imagine your own father talking to you that way?” 

“I can’t,” she murmured. She was surprised to feel some compassion for him – and some new appreciation for Vera. The woman could be petty and manipulative, but she would never have called her own daughter worthless. “That must have been unbearable, Penn.”

“It was.” And then he smiled. “Angelus was the only bright spot in my life. He listened to me. He encouraged me. He made me believe that I wasn’t worthless and stupid. Soon he became the only thing that mattered to me. I even skipped out on my studies to go meet him.”

Sara couldn’t help wondering just how close the two of them had been. 

“When he disappeared years later I was devastated. But I’ll always be grateful to him. He gave me my freedom. He gave me power. Because of him, I didn’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“But you became a killer,” she said. Her compassion withered, overwhelmed by the cold reality of what he was. 

“I’m also the same lover you’ve known all this time,” Penn said. “One doesn’t cancel out the other. I contain multitudes. If you want me, you have to accept all of them, Sara. Don’t try to put me in a neat little box. I won’t fit into it. Look past the horror movie clichés and really _see_ me.”

She stared into his blue-green eyes and tried hard to summon images of the Penn she had known and come to love. The playful lover who bought her lingerie, who quoted the dialogue from _Sweet Smell of Success_ word for word, who loved Beethoven’s sonatas, and who brought her so much pleasure with his fingers and tongue. Those images were delightful, but now her mind had superimposed that horrific face onto them. 

“Do you see me, Sara?”

“I see you,” she said. “And if I close my eyes I can see my blood on your teeth.”

“Sara‒”

“What happens now, Penn? Are you going to kill me?”

“What?” 

“I know what you are now. Are you going to kill me to protect your secret? That’s what someone like you does, right? You eliminate the loose ends.” 

He stared at her as if she had spoken a language he had never heard before. 

Emotion overwhelmed her and she started talking faster. “Look, I won’t tell anyone about you, I swear. Your secret’s safe with me. Who’d believe me anyway? So you can just let me go, okay? You – you don’t have to do anything – anything drastic.” Her voice cracked a little. Her vision blurred.

She covered her mouth with a shaking hand. She would _not_ give him the satisfaction of begging for her life.

“Calm yourself, dear,” he said. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have killed you that first night. No, I have other plans for you.”

“What plans?” Her hand went to her neck. “You’re going to bite me again so I’ll be like you?”

Penn smiled and shook his head. “It takes more than a couple of bites to make a vampire. It’s a ritual. First I drink your blood and then you drink mine.”

Sara’s stomach churned and she thought she was going to be sick. 

Some of her revulsion must have shown on her face because Penn quickly added, “Don’t be afraid. I won’t turn you unless you ask me to. I promise. You have to accept the gift of your own free will. Just as I did.”

“A gift? You call that a gift?” She wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite manage it.

“That’s right. The gift of eternal life. It’s sacred. I would never force it on you.” 

“Gee, that makes me feel so much better.” Her quavering voice ruined her attempt at sarcasm. “So if you’re not going to – to turn me, what do you want with me?”

“I want you to be mine completely. Body and soul. My lover and my slave.”

The words gave her a shiver that was somewhat pleasant. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Oh, I’m one hundred percent serious, sweetheart. I put my mark on you, and now I’m claiming you.”

Her mind was whirling, trying to find some sense in all of this. “Wait, _claim_ me? What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on now. I think you know exactly what I mean.” A corner of his mouth turned up. “Obedience to my will. Submission. Surrender.” His voice was lower, throatier. Each word affected her like a finger trailing down her spine. 

“Do I need to go on? We’ve talked about kinks. Remember our naughty little phone session?”

Her face felt fever-hot. She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. Her heart began to race again as feelings she couldn’t explain swelled inside her.

Penn smiled as he studied her expression. “I see you do remember. It gives you a little tingle, doesn’t it?”

It did, but she didn’t dare admit it. Instead she said, “It terrifies me.”

“There’s nothing to fear, Sara. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to initiate you into a whole new world of pleasure.”

“Do you seriously think that I will ever let you touch me again?”

“Yes, I do,” said Penn. “Because you crave my touch. You’re drawn to me. Don’t deny it. I see it in your eyes.”

She folded her hands tightly together. They felt icy, a strange contrast to the heat that flooded the rest of her body. 

“Okay,” she said. “I won’t deny it. Right from the beginning I was attracted to you. And even now that I know what you are, I still want your touch, your kiss.” She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t understand it.”

“It seems pretty obvious to me.”

“Not to me it doesn’t. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I’ve never had these feelings for a man. They’re so intense. They scare me.” She laughed. “Maybe I’m going crazy.” 

Penn’s smile broadened into a grin. “You’re not going crazy, sweetheart. It’s my little spell. It’s working better than I hoped.”

“What spell? I don’t understand…” 

The answer exploded in her mind. Her eyes widened. “The _bite_?”

“Yes.”

“How?” 

“When I drank your blood I created a psychic link between us. We’re bonded now. You’re mine.”

Panic flooded her. She shook her head. “No no no, this is insane. It can’t be real!” She’d almost prefer to be going crazy. The alternative – what Penn had just asserted – was terrifying.

“It’s real. After that night I became a presence inside your head. You think about me. You dream about me. Remember that lovely dream where I tied you up with the silk scarves? It’s a shame that one was interrupted. What happened? Did your alarm go off?”

Her insides felt as if they were full of hot wires. “I never told you about that. How do you know about that?”

“I caused that dream, Sara. And a few others, too. I transmitted them to you while you were sleeping. That’s when the bond is strongest, because your mind is completely open to me.”

The hot wires started stabbing her all over – her stomach, her chest, her skull. “I don’t want my mind to be open to you. How do I close it? Tell me how to close it!”

“What are you afraid of, pet?”

“I don’t want you rummaging around in my head. And stop calling me pet! I am not your pet!” That word had suddenly taken on a sinister meaning. 

He didn’t respond, just smiled at her. _Yes you are_ , that smile said.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. “The days after – after you bit me were so confusing. I had those dreams. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, even though I was so angry and scared. Your spell did all that?”

“Yes. The bond was in place and working. You were yearning for your master.”

A fresh tingle rippled through her at the word “master”. 

“I don’t fully understand how it works,” Penn admitted. “It’s not a ‘spell’ in the traditional sense. I didn’t chant an incantation, or call on any deities. It’s actually a psychic projection. The fusion of my will and your desire. Drinking your blood at the moment of your climax somehow activated it. Angelus tried to explain the process to me once, but all that metaphysical stuff bores me. I’m more interested in results than explanations. And the results here are thrilling.”

He gave her a warm, broad smile. “The spell doesn’t always work. Maybe it succeeded because you have some latent psychic talent of your own.”

She forced out a sharp laugh. “Oh, wonderful. I have a psychic talent. And instead of helping me pick lottery numbers it turns me into a vampire’s love slave. How spiffy.”

Penn chuckled. “You are a delight, Sara. I’m so happy you’re mine.”

“How did this happen to me?” she said. “All I did was go to a party.” She clasped her freezing, shaking hands together very tightly. “Any minute now I’m going to wake up and this will just be a bad dream. Please God, let me wake up.”

“It’s no dream, I assure you. I’m as real as you are. And once you accept the fact that vampires and their powers are real, it becomes easier to accept the truth about your situation. Doesn’t that make sense?”

She tried frantically to think of a rebuttal but nothing came to mind. “Okay, you’ve got me there.”

“Oh, I’ve got you all right. And I intend to keep you.” He grinned at her and her stomach fluttered. 

A new and terrifying possibility suddenly presented itself. “If you really are in my head, does that mean you can read my thoughts?”

“Sadly, no. The link doesn’t give me access to your thoughts. It lets me track you and it establishes my power over you.” He looked her over, smiling. “But I wish I could read your thoughts. I’d love to know what’s going on in your head right now.” 

“My head?” She laughed weakly. “My head feels so messed up right now, Penn. I don’t know what to think. And it’s all your fault.” 

He affected a wide-eyed expression of innocence. “ _My_ fault?”

She looked directly at him. “Yes. Your fault. Why did you do this to me? Why did you pick me, out of everyone at that party?”

“I liked you,” he said. “When we were in the bar and things were going so well, I thought we could have some fun.” 

“You have a strange idea of fun, Penn.”

“What’s so strange about it? It’s an honor for a human to be chosen as a vampire’s slave.” 

“Pardon me if I don’t feel honored.”

“Well of course you don’t see it that way right now. This is all new to you. But you’ll come around to my way of thinking eventually. In time you will accept me as your master. Perhaps you’ll even love me.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

He smirked. “I’m undead, luv. I don’t breathe.”

“Oh. Right.” Just what she needed, another reminder that he was not human. 

“This is different for me too, you know,” he said. “As a rule I don’t get emotionally involved with mortals.”

“Is that why I’m supposed to feel honored?”

“Well, yes. Mortals satisfy my needs. When it’s time to feed I choose the prey, I stalk it, and then I subdue it and have my meal. Wham bam and I’m done.”

Her stomach clenched. “So at the party you saw me as prey? That’s all I was to you?” 

“At first, yes. You were alone. I figured it would be easy to cull you from the herd, get you under my control. Take you to a secluded area, maybe an alley. Then, dinner is served.” 

How could he be so cold about this? 

He saw her stricken expression and frowned. “Don’t give me that look, Sara. I’m a predator. Ever watch Animal Planet? I’m like a tiger, or a wolf. My thought process is exactly the same as theirs. You wanted the truth, here it is.”

“I never imagined that this was the truth about you,” she said. “I thought you were just a guy with a lot of quirks. But I liked you and I thought you liked me, so I was willing to work around them.” 

Her jaw began to quiver. “These past few weeks you’ve been so gentle and kind with me. You never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. You made me feel good, like nothing I ever felt before. I was ready to give myself to you, give you anything you wanted. And it was all a _lie_? I was just _food_ for you?”

The tears were dangerously close. She covered her face with her hands. _Don’t cry, don’t let him see you cry._

“Hold on, Sara. Just hold on a second.” Pause. “Will you look at me, please?” 

Sara kept her face covered as the tears began to flow. She choked back her sobs until they were nothing more than little hiccupping sounds. Her shoulders shook and her chest hitched with the effort. It was so humiliating to know that he was watching her lose the struggle to control her emotions. She raged at herself for her weakness. 

Was he gloating? She couldn’t blame him. He probably thought she was pathetic. 

“Sara. Look at me.” A little commanding edge to his voice this time. Impossible to ignore.

She took a deep breath and slowly uncovered her face. She turned to him, glaring. Her anger flared even hotter when she saw that Penn had moved closer to her. Now he was less than an arm’s length away. 

“You never felt anything for me at all,” she said. Her voice was raw. “You were just playing your sick little game. You’ve been lying to me this whole time!” 

“I didn’t lie when I said you were beautiful,” he said. “And I didn’t lie when I said I wanted you.” He reached out to her. Before she could protest his fingers brushed her cheek.

Her breath stopped. Penn’s blue-green eyes were fixed on hers. Her body could not move, as if he had pinned her to her seat. He touched her cheek again, just grazing the skin with his cold fingertips. She made a small strangled sound and he smiled.

“I want you,” he said. “It was true the night we met and it’s true now.” 

She ached for just one more touch of his hand. He seemed to sense this, and he stroked her jawline gently, tenderly. She sighed. It was hard to think past the sudden surge of need for him.

She stared into his eyes. It would be so easy to get lost in those eyes.

So easy to get lost.

So dangerous to get lost.

She grabbed hold of a last fraying thread of willpower and jerked away from his hand.

“I can’t – I have to get out of here.” She jumped up and hurried out of the room. 

“Sara ‒”

In the doorway she stopped and looked back at him. 

“I’m going to the restroom,” she said. “Don’t be here when I come back.” Without giving him a chance to respond she turned and forced herself to walk calmly down the hall toward the bathroom.


	16. Torn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn tries to get Sara to surrender to him, and she struggles to resist his charm. Complicating matters is her desire for him.

Once Sara was inside the bathroom she slammed the door shut and locked it. There was no sound from the living room. Good, Penn didn’t follow her. She needed to think, and in order to do that she had to put distance between them. 

She could still feel his fingers on her cheek. 

She washed her hands and then let the cold water run over them until the chill sank into her bones. She lowered her head and splashed her face. The cold sliced through her mental haze. She gasped and did it again. At once she felt more alert and aware.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Water dripped from her nose and chin. She grabbed a towel and patted her face dry, then looked in the mirror again, lifting her head a little to study her neck. The bite had completely healed. If she looked closely she could see two small white scars, but a casual observer would not notice them. 

His mark. That night outside her building Penn had said that she’d wear it forever. She knew what he meant now.

_You belong to me._

Was that true? It was scary, and yet…intriguing. 

He hadn’t just bitten her and drunk her blood – he had somehow hypnotized her. It sounded impossible – but vampires weren’t possible either and she had one sitting on her living room couch. 

The psychic link clarified a few things. It explained why she had been so obsessed with him in the days after their first encounter, and why she still longed for his touch now, even after she had found out what he was. But there were other crucial questions that needed answers. Had she ever been attracted to Penn of her own volition, or had she been under his spell even before he bit her? How much power did he have over her and how was he going to use it? And most painful of all: did he care for her, or was she just prey to him? 

_In time you will accept me as your master._

It was as if she had stepped into one of the dark erotic novels she kept hidden in her underwear drawer. Stories of power, submission and surrender that never failed to make her wet. Now it appeared that he had found her. Part of her was terrified of what he might do to her, and part of her was titillated by the possibilities. 

What a mess she had gotten herself into. Could she escape from it? Did she really want to?

She had no answers for those questions, but she knew she couldn’t stay in here all night. Had Penn left? She paused, listening. 

No sound from the other room, but she knew how stealthy he could be. If he was still here he might come after her before too much longer. She didn’t want him breaking down her door. She might as well face him. Try and figure out how to fight this.

Sara took a deep breath, unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into the hall. She returned to the living room and stopped just inside the doorway. 

Penn still sat on the couch where she had left him. She wasn’t really surprised. 

His long legs were crossed and his arms rested lightly along the back of the couch. Metal rings on his index and ring fingers caught the light, drawing her attention to his large hands. She shivered, remembering how those hands had teased her and coaxed pleasure from her body.

He looked like an ordinary man. Hard to believe that he was a monster. 

He smiled at her. “Do you really think I’m cute, Sara?”

She didn’t answer, mentally slapping herself again for letting the “cute guy” remark slip. 

“Do you feel better now?” he said. 

“I told you to leave,” she said. “Why are you still here, Penn?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Vampire lore, darling. You invited me into your home. Several times. You can’t compel me to leave. I can come and go as I please.”

“I didn’t know what you were when I invited you!”

His smile turned into a smirk. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Fine. I’ll call the police. I’m sure they can compel you to leave.”

“Oh no. Not the police!” He affected a wide-eyed look of terror before resuming the smirk. “You’d better ask them to send the whole precinct. Because unless they’ve started carrying wooden stakes instead of guns, they’re no match for me.” Pause. “It could get messy.”

“What do you mean, messy?”

He dropped the smirk and looked at her, expressionless. “What do you think I mean?”

She couldn’t answer him. All kinds of possibilities were suggesting themselves, none of them pleasant. 

Her throat was suddenly dry again. “Okay,” she said. “No police, then.” Her voice cracked. 

He smiled. “Good.”

“So what now? What do you want from me, Penn?” 

“I believe I’ve already made that clear,” he said. He patted the couch beside him. “Why don’t you come here and sit with me. We can talk about this some more. And then we can play.”

“I’ll stay right here, if you don’t mind. I can’t think clearly when I’m close to you.”

“I know this is a shock. I wanted to break it to you a little more gently.”

She stared at him as if he were out of his mind. “You wanted to _gently_ break the news that you’re a vampire. How do you do that, exactly?”

Penn considered the question. “You have a point. There really is no gentle way to do it.”

“Well, gentle or not, I wish you had told me the truth when I asked you about the bite. I feel like such a fool for believing all of your excuses.”

“That was never my intention,” he said softly. “I wasn’t trying to make a fool of you. I was protecting myself. We hadn’t known each other very long when you asked me about the bite. I wasn’t sure that I could trust you with the truth about me. I didn’t want you to tell someone, like your lovely friend Trish.”

Sara couldn’t suppress a smile. “There’s no way I would have told Trish. She’d never believe it. She’d think I was crazy. But my friend Val ‒ she’d totally believe in you. She’s seen all the _Twilight_ movies at least twice.” 

Penn made a face at the mention of _Twilight_ and she laughed. For a moment their delicate paradise had been restored. But then his eyes narrowed and she felt a cool touch of fear. 

“You wouldn’t be tempted to confide in this open-minded friend of yours, would you, Sara?” he said.

“No, of course not. I won’t tell anyone, ever.”

“Good. Because I want you to understand that you have my life in your hands. If word gets out that there’s a vampire in town, sooner or later the vampire slayers will show up. I might as well stake myself in the heart and save them the trouble. I’ve managed to survive for over three hundred years, and it wasn’t because of luck.” 

He paused, considering. “Well, some of it was due to luck, especially in the beginning. But I’ve also been careful about whom to trust.”

Her eyes widened. “And you trust me?” The realization felt like a heavy weight on her heart. It was another complication that she didn’t need.

“Yes. I knew from the start that you wouldn’t try to stake me. But I had to be certain that you wouldn’t give away my secret.”

“I don’t think I could bear it if someone staked you, Penn.” The words slipped out before she was fully aware of them, and again she felt like slapping herself. 

His face lit up. “So you’ll protect me, then.”

“I promised not to tell anyone. I keep my promises. But I need you to answer a question for me.”

“You can ask me anything, dear.”

“You said that you saw me as your prey at the party,” she said. “Does that mean you were going to kill me that night?” Her voice almost cracked on the word “kill”.

“No, Sara. I don’t kill my prey these days. In the old days I didn’t care. I piled up a pretty impressive body count. It would be easy to blame Angelus for that. I guess you could say he encouraged my worst tendencies. But I won’t blame him. I was reckless. Addicted to the thrill of the hunt. I thought I was invincible. I had to learn the hard way that we can still be killed.” 

“What happened?” In spite of the crazy storm of emotions inside her, Sara couldn’t help feeling curious about Penn’s past.

“I was in Italy. I think it was 1870 or 71. I spent almost a hundred years there. Beautiful country. Lovely people. I had a fantastic time. Maybe you and I could visit sometime. It would be like our own little romantic movie.”

“ _Roman Holiday_ remade by Dario Argento.” She couldn’t help herself; the remark just slipped out.

Penn ignored her snark. “I sired two vampires while I was there. Franco and Isabella. They were gorgeous, but not very smart. They got careless and killed someone too close to our lair. And they left a trail that even a child could follow. The villagers knew it was a vampire kill, so they formed a hunting party and followed the trail back to our place. They staked Franco and Isabella pretty easily. I only escaped because of luck. The villagers knew about vampires but they were not experienced slayers. After they killed my progeny they thought they were done. They didn’t think to look for the master vampire. I was able to hide until they were gone, and then I got out of that town as fast as I could.” 

He sighed and his expression grew somber. “I blame myself. I had no business being a sire. But Angelus had deserted me and I was lonely. I wanted playmates, so I picked out two of the prettiest people I could find and I turned them. We had a great time together. But I didn’t understand that a sire is responsible for his progeny, that it isn’t all fun and games. I taught them how to hunt, but I didn’t teach them how to avoid _being_ hunted. I was supposed to protect them, like human parents protect their children. I failed them. I was too immature for such a big responsibility.”

“So when they were killed it was like a wakeup call,” she said.

“Definitely. I had to learn how to conceal myself. How not to be greedy. I learned that I don’t have to drain the prey. Now I only take as much as I need and I leave them alive. They don’t lose much more blood than they would at a Red Cross blood drive.”

“But isn’t that still dangerous for you? They can go to the police and describe you. They’d have the bite as proof.”

“They may have the bite, but they have no memory of how they got it. I project my will into them while I’m feeding, just as I did with you. It’s called ‘glamour’. The power to cloud minds. I simply will them to forget what happened. That’s what it would have been like for you. You would have stumbled out of an alley with no idea how you got there or how you got that bite. You would have remembered nothing, not even my face.”

She frowned at him. “So you would have mind-fucked me.”

Her choice of words made Penn smile. “Crudely put. But accurate.”

“Beats being dead, I guess.”

“I hope so.” His expression became serious. “That was my original plan for you. When I saw you as prey. But I changed my mind about you.”

“You upgraded me. From your dinner to your sex slave. Hooray for me.”

“Listen to me.” His gaze locked onto hers and she couldn’t look away. “ _Think_ , Sara. If all I wanted was a quick meal, why did I spend so much time getting to know you that night? I don’t get up close and personal with my prey. Most of them aren’t worth the effort. But you were.”

She wanted so badly to believe him. The words ‒ _Convince me_ ‒ were stuck in her throat. She locked eyes with him, trying to communicate this thought to him. He couldn’t read her mind, but maybe he could read her face.

He continued in a softer voice, “After we left the party, I could have easily taken you. But I went with you to the bar. And then I went home with you – why would I do that if all I wanted was to feed? It would have been much easier for me to drag you into an alley and take what I wanted. That’s my usual routine. But with you, I wanted more.”

He had received her message. She let out a long breath as some tightness in her chest eased. “What did you want?” she whispered.

He smiled at her. “Sara, there is something about you that I really like. You’re pretty, you’re sweet, funny. Intelligent. And so refreshingly innocent. You have everything I look for in a lover. When we left the bar I knew I had to have you. I wanted to touch you, taste you. Possess you. I wanted you to be mine, and mine alone. So when we came back here that night, I knew I was going to bind you to me.”

The muscles in her lower body tightened in a distracting way. She could feel desire radiating from him. It was so exciting to be desired. If he was the flame, she was the moth. She wanted to touch him, even if it burned her fingers. 

She was torn. Part of her wanted to surrender to him, to let him take whatever he wanted from her. But was she supposed to ignore the fact that he was not human? Another part of her warned that giving herself to such a creature was immoral. Some remnant of her Catholic upbringing whispered that it might even put her soul at risk. But oh God, she was tempted.

Resisting him was hard enough without having to fight herself too! She had to fight the pull she felt towards him. There must be a way out of this, if she could only think. Loving him was wrong. She had to remember that.

“Sara? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She sighed. “I get what you’re saying. If all you wanted was my blood, you could have just taken it.”

“So we’re okay, then.”

She laughed but there was no humor in it. “Honey, we are so far from okay we need a map to find it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Then I’ll make it simple for you. I don’t like your attitude. You seem to think you can just claim me like a piece of luggage.”

“Well, yes.” Penn looked puzzled. “Why not?”

“See? This is my point! You’re so arrogant! You said you wouldn’t make me a vampire unless I asked for it, but you went ahead and made me your slave without asking me at all. You trapped me. You didn’t give me a choice. I didn’t ask for this, and I don’t want it.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if you want it or not. It’s done. You’re mine.”

“Even if I don’t want you?”

He smirked at her. “Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t want me.”

Looking in his eyes was the last thing she wanted to do. But she forced herself to do it. Her mouth opened to say the words…and nothing came out. 

Memories of that first night came back to her. His kiss, and the feel of his hands on her body. His lips on her neck, and then his teeth. Pleasure chasing pain, pain chasing pleasure, until she hardly knew which was which. Her body remembered, and responded.

She looked away, trembling. “Shit.” Her face burned with shame and need.

“See? We’re bonded. The only one who can break the bond is me, and I’m not letting you go."

She looked back at him. “If you won’t let me go, maybe I’ll run. I could pack a bag and get on the first bus going anywhere. What do you think about that?”

He cocked his head and regarded her. “Where will you go? You’re going to just uproot yourself? Leave your job, your friends and family? All because of little old me? Sounds drastic.”

Damn. He had a point. She wouldn’t feel too bad about leaving her job. A skilled secretary could find a job anywhere. But she would miss her family and her girlfriends. They’d worry about her, and how would she explain her sudden departure? Oh God, what about her mother? Vera had a meltdown when Sara moved to the city, and that was only about ninety minutes away by train. How far would she have to run to escape Penn? Maybe she’d have to leave the country. Vera would shit a brick.

He must have seen the doubt in her expression. “Running is pointless. You can’t escape me. We’re bonded, remember? I’ll track you down eventually. A week, a month, a year, it doesn’t matter. That’s one advantage of being immortal.” He winked at her. “I’ve got nothing but time, honey.”

“How nice for you.”

“Sooner or later I’ll show up at your door to claim what’s mine. Until then you’ll always be looking over your shoulder. Think you can live with that?”

“No, probably not,” she muttered. 

“And then there’s this: You don’t really _want_ to run from me, do you?” He gave her a sly, knowing look and she had to turn away again. 

“Your body will miss my touch,” he said. His voice was a low purr and it sent a shiver all the way down to her clit. “You’ll miss my mouth and hands on your skin. You’ll miss the pleasure that I can give you. And we haven’t even made love yet, Sara. You’ll wonder what that would have been like. How it would have felt to have my cock inside you, filling you for the first time.”

“Stop it,” she whispered.

“It doesn’t matter where you go, pet. Distance won’t break the bond between us. You could go to the other side of the world and it won’t change a thing. You’ll hunger for me.”

She knew he was telling the truth. She could feel his power, like a crackling thread of electricity. She didn’t doubt that he would track her down if she ran. And while she hated to admit that he was right, it was true that she didn’t want to run. Hell, it was taking all the willpower she had just to keep from walking over to him. She could see herself crossing the room, sitting beside him, resting her head on his shoulder while he put his arm around her. She could almost feel his cold touch.

Penn lounged on the couch, giving her a lazy smile. “So forget about running. Stay with me. _Play_ with me. We’ve already enjoyed some intimacies. Think of how much more fun we can have. All the things I can teach you. We could explore your submissive desires. I’ll tie you up and show you how sweet surrender can be.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’ll bet I can get you to scream my name and beg for release.” 

He didn’t elaborate on how he would bring her to such a state. But she could think of a few possibilities. Oh yes. She folded her arms tightly across her chest and tried to ignore the traitorous little tingles that raced through her. The sneaky bastard knew her weakness. 

He looked her over. “You’re trembling. Did my little whimsy frighten you?” His smile took on a nastier edge. “Or maybe it turned you on and you don’t want to admit it.”

Sara didn’t trust herself to speak. His words had hit a little too close to home. She exhaled and for a moment couldn’t manage another breath. She struggled to keep her expression neutral. It seemed very important that she not appear vulnerable to this monster right now. 

“You might as well get used to my kinks, Sara. You’re going to become very familiar with all of them.”

She couldn’t stand his smugness anymore. “So that’s your big seduction plan? You’re going to force me to do what you want?”

His smile faded and he looked a little hurt. “You think I’m talking about rape? Sweetheart, I may be evil, but I am not a rapist. I have never forced a woman into sex. That’s no fun for me. I need my woman to want me as much as I want her.”

She wavered, wanting to believe him.

“I won’t force you to do anything, Sara. I won’t have to. You’ll come to me. You won’t be able to help it. You’ve already admitted that you crave my touch.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to give in.”

“You will eventually. Your desire will wear you down until you’re begging for me. I think you know what I’m talking about.”

Oh, she knew, all right. It was already happening. She wrapped her arms even more tightly around herself. “No. I won’t give in to you.” Her voice was hoarse, but it didn’t waver. 

“You know,” Penn said, “if I had a little less self-esteem, I’d feel insulted by your stubbornness.”

She wanted to say, _I’m not stubborn. I’m scared._ But she couldn’t say that. She mustn’t make herself more vulnerable to him.

The silence stretched out between them. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of response from her, but when she didn’t speak he sighed and shook his head. “Okay, go ahead and fight if you must. It’s pointless, but I kind of like the struggle.” He grinned. “It will make your surrender even sweeter.”

“You’re a cocky bastard.”

“Just telling the truth,” he said. “Your desire and my will are stronger than your stubbornness. I’ll prove it to you.” He stood up and walked toward her.

She tensed as he came to her. She wanted to run but somehow managed to stay put. He stood before her, locked eyes with her. 

They stood like that for what felt like a long time, until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What are you going to do to me, Penn?”

“I’m going to do as you asked. You wanted me to leave. I’ll leave.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes. I think you need a little time to reflect on the situation.” 

Relief flooded her. But it was tinged with sadness as well. She raged at herself for her weakness. She was getting her way! He was leaving her alone. She should be celebrating her victory.

But maybe it wasn’t a victory. Maybe there was a catch. Penn’s confident smirk made her wary.

She had to press her advantage and not look as though she were weakening. “Give me my key, please.” She held out her hand, relieved that it wasn’t shaking.

“Why? Do you think I’m going to rummage through your panty drawer or snoop in your medicine cabinet when you’re not home?”

“I’ll feel better knowing that you don’t have it.”

“Anything to ease your mind.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a key ring. He made a big show of looking through each key until he came to the one she had given him. He took it off the ring and held it out to her. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” The key landed in her palm. The metal was icy, as if it had absorbed Penn’s coldness. She was about to pull her hand back when he took it and gently curled her fingers around the key. His eyes captured hers.

“I suspect you’ll only be keeping it on a temporary basis.”

She was too stunned to move. “And what makes you so sure of that?” She meant it as a challenge but her voice quavered.

He smiled. “Because I’ll be seeing you again. Soon.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. You’re mine, Sara. After you’ve had a little time to think, you’ll come to realize that, and embrace it.” 

“Nothing will change.” She didn’t say it with as much conviction as she might have liked.

He winked. “We’ll see.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her curled fingers. She gasped and he released her hand.

“Have a good night, darling.” He moved past her into the hall and headed for the door. “Pleasant dreams.”

“Penn, wait!” She suddenly didn’t want him to go after all. But he didn’t respond, just opened the door and walked out of her apartment. She felt that she should run after him but she couldn’t move. The door slammed shut and she heard his footsteps walking away. 

Her heart thudded in her chest, fast and painful. Her body felt hot and cold all at once. Conflicting emotions rocked her. She had told him to leave, so why wasn’t she happy that he was gone? Instead she felt a wrenching sense of loss. It was as if someone had ripped a jagged hole through her chest. 

It didn’t make sense. Penn was a monster. He drank the blood of the living. He had drunk _her_ blood. He had gotten inside her head, invaded her dreams. He wanted her to be his sex slave (she was going to ignore the fact that this idea excited her). And without a shred of remorse he had admitted that he was a multiple murderer. 

He was a creature from a horror movie. And he was also a gentle, affectionate lover who had given her more pleasure than she’d ever known, who had treated her with real tenderness. 

_See me_ , he had said. But all she could see were contradictions. How could she possibly reconcile them?

She didn’t know. All she knew was that she already missed him. It might be wrong to desire him, but if he walked through that door right now she would fall on her knees and beg him to take her.

Maybe if there really was a link between them he would somehow be able to sense that she wanted him to come back. She focused on this desire with all her might. Hoping against hope. 

A minute went by. Then two. Nothing happened. 

Her body went limp. Her hands opened and the key fell unheeded to the floor. Tears blurred her vision as she slumped against the wall.

“But I was right,” she said. “I can’t love him. It’s wrong. He’ll destroy me. Asking him to leave was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it?” Her voice cracked.

The walls flung her words back at her. They could give her no answers, no help. She was on her own.


	17. Lovesick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara struggles with her feelings after Penn's departure.

The next few days were filled with emotional peaks and valleys that left Sara feeling numb and exhausted. She couldn’t stop thinking about Penn. She bounced back and forth between craving his touch and scolding herself for wanting it. One minute she told herself that she would give anything to hear him say “Hello, beautiful” in that silky voice. Then the next she reminded herself of all the reasons why she should not love him, but her heart was refusing to listen.

He still scared her, but she could no longer deny that she was in love with the monster. It didn’t matter anymore if her feelings were wholly her own or if they were the product of his spell, his glamour, or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. Only one thing mattered: she wanted him desperately and he was not available.

He wasn’t even available in her dreams. Ever since the night he left her she hadn’t had one dream about Penn, erotic or otherwise. He must have closed the connection that allowed him to transmit images into her sleeping mind. And for some reason she wasn’t able to conjure him up in her own dreams. Was he responsible for that? Could he be that powerful? She had no way of knowing, but she missed dreaming about him. 

Falling asleep was a chore. Every night the same scenario played out. She lay in bed tossing and turning, feeling restless and frustrated. Finding a comfortable position was almost impossible. At some point the bedroom felt too stuffy and she threw the covers off. All the while her clit throbbed, demanding attention. She tried to ignore it but it was like a teasing, tempting itch. 

Finally she gave in and slipped her hand into her pajama bottoms. She closed her eyes and rubbed, imagining that Penn’s tongue was teasing her, making her squirm and beg. Release was always quick and left her gasping and limp in her bed. After orgasm falling asleep was like dropping down a black hole. Instead of dreaming about Penn she wandered through endless mazelike corridors, searching for something that was just out of reach. When the alarm caught her at seven A.M. she emerged from sleep bleary-eyed and still tired, dreading the start of another day.

Everything seemed to remind her of Penn, especially music. The sound of jazz on her neighbor’s radio brought her back to that delightful night at After Eight. She couldn’t listen to Tom Petty sing “Refugee” anymore because it was playing on the jukebox at Eddie’s the night they met. And she found herself irresistibly drawn to the _Moonlight Sonata_ CD he had given her. She sat on the couch and listened to it on repeat play, crying silently until she felt drained. 

Other reminders hit her without any warning at all. While riding her morning bus she opened a magazine and the fragrance from a men’s cologne sample wafted out of it. It didn’t exactly match Penn’s musky sandalwood scent, but it was close enough to make her tremble. Another time she opened her bureau drawer to pick out some underwear. The Joie De Vivre box was there, midnight blue among all the white cotton. It almost seemed to wink at her. Longing squeezed the breath out of her and she had the sudden urge to grab the box and toss it in the trash. But she couldn’t bring herself to do that and instead she shoved the drawer closed and then stalked out of the bedroom, slamming the door so hard it sounded like a gunshot. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to give her time to think. She was thinking, all right. Her main thought was that if another week went by with no contact she might jump out of her skin. He had said that he would see her again, but when? If he wanted to teach her a lesson, surely he must think that a week without any contact would do the trick. But that first week dragged to a close without a peep from him. 

Her phone was always on. Even while she slept it was within easy reach on the night table. If she had to leave it for any length of time – to take a shower, for instance – the first thing she did when she came back was check for messages. She never got used to the dull thud of letdown when there were none. Every time the phone rang or pinged to announce an incoming text, she pounced on it, only to be disappointed when the caller ID flashed someone else’s name. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone else, so she ignored the calls unless they came from work. 

Sometimes her emotions boiled over and the urge to call him was almost overwhelming. _I’m yours, Penn. Take me, do whatever you like with me._ So far she had managed to resist. Calling him would mean that he had won. She didn’t want him to win. 

_My lover and my slave_ , he had said. The words titillated her, as long as they referred to domination games in the bedroom. But some part of her feared that he wanted much more. This part of her insisted that Penn would overwhelm her and take away her free will. Turn her into a mindless puppet, living only to do his bidding. 

That thought killed the urge to call him, for a while.

She didn’t know how long she could hold out, but she was determined not to be an easy conquest for him. Wasn’t her mother always telling her that giving up the goods too easily meant giving up her advantage over a man? And then there was Trish, with her lectures about not giving men all the power in a relationship. Two women who couldn’t be more different, and yet they had given her very similar advice about men. Each in her own way was telling Sara not to give up control of her situation. 

But she _hadn’t_ given up her control; Penn had swiped it from her as easily as a pickpocket lifting a wallet. She hadn’t even noticed it was gone until it was too late.

Thinking about Trish brought its own stress. The day after that terrible Friday she had sent a text: _Everything ok?_ Sara had no idea how to respond. Things were _not_ okay, but where to begin? Hours later she texted back: _Yes, everything’s ok. Will call u._

But she didn’t follow up. What could she say to her? Trish would want to know how things had gone with Penn and Sara couldn’t tell her the truth about what had happened. She tried to imagine the response she would get if she said, “You were right. Penn wasn’t what he seemed to be. Turns out he’s a vampire.”

Ha! Trish would think she was crazy. She loved _True Blood_ and cheesy horror flicks, but she would never believe that vampires were real. She lived in a practical, sensible world where the supernatural did not exist. Up until a week ago, so had Sara. She wished she could have that world back.

She couldn’t put Trish off forever. She knew she had to come up with a plausible story about how things had gone with Penn. The story had to include an alternate reason for his evasiveness, one that would protect his secret without setting off Trish’s bullshit detector. But nothing came to mind. So she kept ducking Trish’s calls as she waited for inspiration. With each ducked call her guilt grew stronger. 

Penn’s secret burned inside her. She longed to confide in her friends, even if she sounded crazy. But she had promised Penn that she would never tell anyone the truth about him. Would a vampire slayer really show up to kill him if his secret got out? He seemed to think so and he was in a position to know such things. 

She supposed that if she were a different kind of person she would look up a vampire slayer, explain the situation, and then let things take their course. Sooner or later the slayer would track Penn down and send him to join his pals Franco and Isabella in whatever afterlife vampires had. 

How did one find a vampire slayer anyway? Did they advertise on Craigslist?

That didn’t matter, because she _wasn’t_ a different kind of person and Penn knew that. The power to out him was the one advantage she held over him and he had willingly given it to her because he trusted her. This shouldn’t matter and yet it did. His trust made her want to protect him. Betraying him was unthinkable.

It didn’t make sense, damn it! He had turned her life upside down. He didn’t deserve her loyalty. 

Was this love? She had no real life experience she could use as a comparison, and this didn’t fit any rom-com, Lifetime movie, or romance novel she had ever seen. It was more like a Hammer horror flick and she had landed the starring role. The only thing she needed was a flowing gown and she’d be all set.

*****

Another week began and still no word from Penn. She started to wonder if she would ever hear from him. There was a dull ache in her chest all the time and she always seemed to be on the verge of tears. 

Maybe he wasn’t even in town anymore. Maybe he had grown tired of her and decided to move on to a new conquest. He might be in another city right this minute, getting ready to start the dance of predator and prey once again. Searching for a new gullible chick to snare in his web. The world was full of lonely people who were looking for love, easy pickings for a handsome devil like him. All he had to do was flash that killer smile and use his charm. 

Oh, God. _Did_ he move on to a new girl? The thought snatched her from the brink of sleep and left her gasping, heart racing, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as anxiety had its way with her.

Would he be that cruel? He had said he would see her again! But what if he was toying with her, the way Greg had toyed with her? Greg cheated on her and then laughed at her for being angry with him. Was Penn doing the same thing to her? The prospect made her feel as if someone were squeezing her heart in a vise. 

_Damn him! Damn him to hell!_

He had been so smug that night, so confident that she would eventually come crawling to him. He was probably laughing at her now, telling himself that it was only a matter of time. How great would it be to wipe that cocky smile off his face? 

What if she set a trap for him? _Call him up, arrange a meeting, and when he shows up, shove a wooden stake in his chest._ A broken broom handle would probably do the trick. He would never see it coming.

How’s _that_ for surrender, you bastard? 

Immediately remorse washed over her. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a violent person. She couldn’t stake Penn or sell him out to someone who would. Watching a vampire get killed in a horror movie was one thing, but doing it for real? No way, she didn’t have it in her. Like shoplifting or cheating on her taxes, it just felt _wrong._

And staking Penn was worse than wrong — it would be a terrible, unthinkable betrayal.  
Why was she so sure of that? A betrayal? Of _him_? He had betrayed her by putting her in this crazy situation. She owed him nothing. And yet…some part of her insisted that she did. It didn’t make any sense. 

With all these turbulent emotions surging through her, it was actually a relief to go to work. The office became Sara’s refuge and she gratefully escaped into it. Things were quite busy and she spent her days typing and revising wills, contracts, and any other documents the attorneys needed. The projects were dull, but they required close attention. Once or twice she even had to stay late to finish some task. This was exactly what she needed. Throwing herself into her job meant that she could forget about Penn and her crazy situation, at least for a while. The dangerous time was when she came home and had nothing urgent to do. Television, books, and the internet were not enough to distract her from her fantasies and longings. 

*****

Wednesday morning Sara woke up and realized that Halloween was on Friday. She had almost forgotten about it. This used to be one of her favorite holidays, but this year it held no interest for her. She had originally planned to coax Penn into watching a horror movie marathon with her. You could count on Turner Classic to have a pretty solid lineup for Halloween night. She imagined herself and Penn cuddled on the couch under a comforter, the lights off. She would grab his arm during the scariest parts. She would be fair to him and limit their marathon to two movies before leading him into the bedroom to give him his “reward” for being such a good sport. 

Just a silly romantic fantasy. Throw it on the garbage pile along with her other daydreams of doing the things that “normal” couples did – having romantic candlelight dinners, taking weekend trips to a quaint little bed and breakfast, bringing him home to meet her parents. Other couples took such things for granted. Before she met Penn, Sara would listen to women at work talking about their big romantic plans and she would feel a spike of envy so strong it almost made her physically sick. It was as if they were part of some secret club that she could never join. When she and Penn became an item she had dared to hope that she could now be part of that club. 

Once or twice she had even wondered what it would be like if she and Penn were married. She wasn’t interested in the whole “white picket fence, two kids and a dog” scenario, but surely they could find their own version of bliss. 

In her daydreams she woke up with him, fixed coffee and breakfast for two, and then kissed him goodbye before they left for their respective jobs. They would come home from work and have a leisurely dinner while talking about their day. The dinner, of course, would be prepared with Penn’s dietary restrictions in mind. (How naïve she had been in accepting that particular excuse! Worrying about how to cook for him, when all she needed to do was open a vein.) 

The daydream continued with Penn graciously offering to do the dishes so that she could relax in the living room (she liked to picture him giving her a foot rub) and then they would cuddle on the couch while watching television. Then it was off to bed and sweet, passionate lovemaking. 

These daydreams made her feel warm inside. She felt as if she could reach out and grab them. 

Yeah, well, throw them on the garbage pile too. Vampires and matrimony didn’t mix. How could they? Love was an essential component of marriage. Penn’s sexual desire for her was obvious, but she must not mistake that for love. Love was a human emotion and Penn was inhuman, not to mention completely amoral. Hell, he was a multiple murderer who couldn’t even give her a ballpark estimate of the number of his victims. He wouldn’t make a good husband any more than a tiger would make a good house pet. 

She would probably spend her Halloween night watching some cheesy reality show. No horror movies for her. Penn had spoiled this innocent pleasure for her. He had said that horror movies made him laugh harder than comedies. Now she understood why. They probably seemed ridiculously fake to him, given his rather unique perspective. And now they seemed fake to her too. Why should she watch a movie about make-believe monsters when she had a real one in her life? 

*****

Thursday night Val called and invited Sara out for a quick meal after work on Friday. Sara’s first instinct was to say no, but after a little thought she realized that it would be nice to get out for a while instead of sitting at home and brooding. So, she accepted the invitation. Val was thrilled and said that she would meet Sara in the lobby of her office building at around five-thirty.

As she went through her day on Friday she became more and more eager to see her friend. Five-thirty finally came and she practically raced out the door and headed for the elevator. Val was in the lobby, as promised.

“Hey you,” she said as they embraced. “Happy Halloween.”

“Thanks sweetie, same to you,” said Sara. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

“Me too,” said Val. “So, what do you feel like eating?”

After a brief discussion they decided on Happy Jack’s, a burger joint three blocks away. It was a popular lunch spot, famous for its seven ounce burgers and thick steak fries, as well as pulled pork sandwiches and grilled chicken. The space was small, with only twenty-five tables, and during lunch it was so jam-packed your best hope for a burger was ordering it to go. But the pace slowed down considerably after the lunch rush and you could have a nice relaxing dinner.

Happy Jack’s was nearly deserted, so Sara and Val were able to grab a premium table by the window. Over burgers and fries, and cold Cokes they chatted about various things. Val did most of the talking, but Sara didn’t mind. Listening to Val kept her mind off her troubles. 

Val had a lot going on. She had just moved in with her big sister Laura. She was trying to save money while she worked and went to school part time to earn her teaching credential. 

“I thought I’d hate living with Laura,” she said. “She was so obnoxious to me when we were kids, but she’s mellowed a lot. I actually like hanging out with her now. We go shopping, we go to concerts. She’s a teacher too, so she helps me study and gives me pointers. It’s the kind of relationship I always wanted us to have.” 

Then there was her other big news: she had a new boyfriend. His name was Joel, and they had been seeing each other for about three weeks. He was a really sweet guy and they had a lot in common.

“I’m supposed to meet him later, uptown,” she said. “We’re going to the John Carpenter double feature at the Barlow. First _The Fog_ and then _Halloween._ ”

“Sounds like fun,” said Sara. She tried to stifle the flicker of envy and was (mostly) successful. “I hope you have a good time.” 

“Thanks. And how are things with Penn?”

The question she had been dreading. “Ah.” Sara shifted in her seat. “Can we change the subject?”

Val looked stricken. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. You’re having problems?”

Sara sighed. “We hit a bump in the road. It’s…complicated.”

“Oh, okay. I hope things work out for you.”

Sara managed a smile. “Thanks. Time will tell, I guess.”

Thankfully Val left it at that and they moved on to other topics. The burgers were delicious and Sara dug in with the first real appetite she’d had in a couple of days. Time passed quickly and before they knew it the food was gone and it was nearly seven-thirty.

“I’d better head out,” said Val. “I’m meeting Joel in an hour.”

“Okay.” They signaled the waitress and at Sara’s insistence decided to split the check. 

As Val was putting her wallet back in her purse she glanced out the window and frowned. “What is it?” asked Sara.

“There’s a guy across the street. I noticed him a few minutes ago. He’s just standing there, looking at us.” Her blue eyes widened. “No, wait. He’s looking at _you,_ Sara.”

“Me?” Her heart quickened. 

“Don’t look!” hissed Val.

But she was already turning toward the window. She couldn’t help it. It was as if an invisible pair of hands had taken hold of her head. It seemed to take a long time for her head to move on her neck. But even before she had completely turned to the window and saw him, she _knew._

Blond spiky hair. Glasses. Dressed in black. _Oh God._ Even from here she could see the cocky smile.

“It’s Penn,” she said. She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice.

“Penn? Did you tell him you were going to be here?”

“I texted him while you were in the ladies’ room. I didn’t expect him to show up.” The lie came out smoothly. It was easier than explaining the vampire voodoo. 

Val smiled. “He probably wants to make up. Let’s go, Sara. I’d love to meet him.”

 _Make up? Or claim what’s his?_ Sara wondered about this as they gathered their things and headed for the door.


	18. Trick? Or Treat?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn and Sara meet again.

As soon as they stepped outside Penn crossed the street and headed their way. Sara stopped and stood completely still, unable to take her eyes off him as he approached. Oh God, he was more handsome than ever. Her hands felt cold, the palms damp. Her heart pounded, and between her legs her clit set up its own pulse.

“Breathe, honey,” Val murmured beside her. She sounded amused.

Sara giggled and glanced at her. “God, look at me,” she said. “I’m so pathetic. It’s like I’m back in high school.” But she had never felt this way about any boy in high school.

Val smiled at her and patted her arm. “You’ll be okay.”

Sara wondered, _Will I?_ But before she could say anything else Penn was standing before her. 

“Well, hello,” he said. “Happy Halloween, beautiful.”

“Penn. Hi.” Her voice squeaked a little. His blue-green eyes met hers and she felt as if she might fall into their depths.

Her brain locked up. She had rehearsed things she wanted to tell him if they ever met again, ranging from the unbearably sappy to a tirade so profane it would make a gangster blush. But now that he was here in the flesh she couldn’t think of a single word to say. She might have stood there mute for the rest of the evening if Val hadn’t uttered a discreet little cough. That was enough to break the spell.

“Oh, ah, gee,” she stammered. “I’m sorry. I’m forgetting my manners. Penn, this is my good friend Val. And Val, this is Penn.”

They shook hands. “It’s so nice to meet you, Penn,” Val said. Penn gave her his million-watt smile. It was as if he had turned on a sunlamp. Sara could sense Val perking up next to her. 

Was she standing up a little straighter, pushing out her chest just a little more? Sara was surprised to feel some irritation. _Watch it, he’s mine,_ she wanted to say.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Val,” said Penn. “Sara’s told me a lot about you.”

“She has?” Val darted a glance at Sara. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

“No, not at all. She tells me you’re big fan of _Twilight_.”

Val giggled. “Oh, that. Yeah. I like the movies. They’re so romantic, you know?”

Penn smiled. “So…are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

Val giggled again. “Oh, Team Edward, definitely! No contest. Vampires are so much sexier than werewolves.”

Penn’s smile grew wider. “I agree,” he said. “But the movies get one crucial thing wrong. Vampires don’t sparkle. If a vampire goes out into the sunlight, he’ll burst into flames.” He snapped his fingers. “Poof.”

Val narrowed her eyes. “Well, yeah. But they’re just movies, right? Vampires aren’t real. It’s all a myth.”

“Oh, of course vampires are a myth,” Penn agreed. “It’s just that none of the myths I ever read mentioned sparkling. I guess I’m a stickler for tradition.” He looked at Sara. “What do you think, darling?”

Sara shook her head. Of all the topics he could have talked about…

“Vampires don’t exist,” she said. “But if they did they wouldn’t sparkle. And they wouldn’t be capable of love, either.” That last came out sounding a little harsher than she had intended, and Val gave her a puzzled look.

Penn raised an eyebrow. “If they were real, Sara, I think you might be surprised at what they were capable of.”

Was he taunting her? “Oh, is that so?” 

Two weeks of emotional turmoil flared inside her. She was almost vibrating with anger. All the things she wanted to say piled up behind her lips, begging to be let out. But she wasn’t going to start a fight with him in front of Val. She might say too much.

Val seemed to sense the tension in her. She took a step backward. “You two obviously have a lot to talk about,” she said. “I should get going. I’ve got to meet Joel.”

Sara turned to her, a little embarrassed. “Okay, sweetie. It was nice seeing you. Have a good time on your date.”

“Thanks, I will. It was good to see you too.” Val hugged her and whispered in her ear, “Are you okay?” 

Sara kissed her cheek and then whispered back, “Yes, everything’s fine. Penn and I just need to talk.”

“Okay, honey. Good luck.” Val released her and stepped back. “Nice meeting you, Penn.”

He nodded. “Same here.”

“I’ll call you during the week, Sara.” 

_Just go, already._ Sara smiled and nodded. “Okay, hon.”

Val gave them a little wave and then walked away. Both Penn and Sara watched her until she turned the corner. When she was gone, Sara turned and glared at him. “What was all that about?”

Penn cocked his head and gave her a quizzical look. “What?”

“Talking about vampires. What kind of game were you playing?”

“No game. I was making conversation. I thought you wanted me to be sociable with your friends?”

“You couldn’t have picked a different topic of conversation?”

“Like what? The weather? Small talk bores me, Sara. You told me Val likes _Twilight._ That’s all I knew about her, so I worked with what I had.” He frowned at her. “And by the way, what game were _you_ playing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Saying that vampires aren’t capable of love. That was a shot at me. Don’t deny it.” He spoke softly so that passers-by wouldn’t overhear them.

“Well, what if it was?” She kept her voice low too, speaking in a harsh whisper. “What, did I hurt the big bad monster’s feelings?”

“Suddenly you’re an expert on what I’m capable of feeling?” he said. “Based on your vast experience of vampires?”

“Based on my experience of the vampire who got inside my head and trapped me in some kind of slave role that I don’t understand. The one who made me fall in love with him and then abandoned me. Two weeks, Penn. No calls. No contact at all. _Nothing._ ” 

She put a hand over her mouth for several seconds, struggling for control. Her eyes watered and her throat ached.

Penn watched her silently. He seemed to know that she had more to say. His expression gave away nothing. 

When she felt that she could speak again, she went on in a more normal tone of voice. “You turned me into a junkie for you, Penn. You became the most important thing in my life. And then you left and I thought you were never coming back.”

“But I told you I’d come back. I was giving you a chance to think. I wanted you to see that we were meant to be together.”

She shook her head. “Come off it. You weren’t giving me space. You were punishing me. You wanted to make me crawl.”

“Not true,” he said.

Anger overwhelmed her, white-hot. Her hand lashed out and slapped his face. The crack of her palm on his cheek was loud even amid all the street and traffic noise. 

A man passing by stopped and muttered, “Damn, girl, what’d he do to piss you off that bad?”

Sara ignored him and after a moment he shrugged and started walking again. She stared at Penn, breathing hard. Her palm stung and burned. Her body felt like a collection of tightly twisted wires.

_Oh, God. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve made him mad._

But Penn’s expression was calm. He said, “Feel better now?” 

She let out a long exhale. “It’s a start.” 

Penn nodded. “I guess I had that coming.”

“You can say that again.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed. Sara stiffened but did not move away. “You’re so tense. You’re still afraid of me? What do I have to do to convince you that I will never hurt you?” 

She looked up at him. The light pressure of his hands on her shoulders felt good. “But you did hurt me. I thought I was going to go crazy when I didn’t hear from you.”

“I was proving a point.”

She sighed. Some of the tension bled out of her. “The bond, right. Well, you proved it. Happy now?”

“I know it felt like a punishment when you didn’t hear from me,” he said. “But it wasn’t. I wanted you to feel the strength of the bond between us.” 

“Oh, I felt it. Believe me, I felt it.”

He chuckled. “You have a strong will. I kept expecting you to call me and tell me you were giving in. But you didn’t. You impressed me, Sara. You keep showing me that I made a good choice when I picked you.”

A warm feeling grew in her belly, kindled by his praise. It felt so good that she decided not to tell him how close she had come to calling him. It also seemed prudent not to mention that she had fantasized about staking him. “I didn’t want you to think I was easy.” 

He caressed her cheek. “I’ve never thought that. I don’t want a doormat for a lover. I like it when you’re feisty and when you make snarky comments. And this is going to sound really strange, but…I love that you slapped me.” 

Her eyes widened. “Get out of here.”

“I’m serious. You have spirit, Sara. I’ve liked that about you from the start. I don’t want to break you. I want you to keep showing me that spirit.” 

She giggled. “I didn’t plan to hit you. It just happened, I swear.” 

“I believe you. Just…don’t make a habit of it, okay?”

She smiled at him. “Don’t make a habit of leaving me hanging.”

He grinned at her. “Deal.” He slipped a finger under her chin and gently tilted up her head. His eyes searched hers. “So, you’ve accepted that you’re mine?”

There were plenty of good reasons to say no, but right now she couldn’t remember them. She managed to say, “Yes. I’m yours.”

“Then let’s go back to your place and make it official.”

“Make it official, as in…?” She couldn’t say the word.

“As in…consummation,” he said. The word caressed her ears. He noticed her quick intake of breath and gave her a sly smile. “You like that word?”

“It, uh, has its charms.” 

“It certainly does,” he said. “Of course, if that’s too naughty for you, we could do something more wholesome. Maybe we could go trick or treating.” 

She giggled. “I’ve had enough tricks from you, Dracula.” The name just slipped out. She marveled at her nerve. First she slapped him, now she was needling him. 

Penn didn’t take offense. “No more tricks. Only treats from here on out.” He put his arm around her shoulders. 

They walked up to Grand Avenue where the traffic was flowing briskly. Penn held up his free hand and a cab stopped for them almost immediately.

As he reached for the door she said, “No funny business in the backseat.”

He grinned at her. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He opened the door for her. 

She snorted as she climbed into the backseat. “I’ve heard that one before.”

*****

They rode in silence back to Sara’s apartment. Penn was true to his word and made no attempt to touch her other than holding her hand. She was hyper-aware of his body so close to hers. The word _consummation_ kept echoing through her mind. Her heart raced as she imagined what would happen between them. Her first time. After so many nights of reading about it and fantasizing about it, she was finally going to surrender her virginity. What would her mother say about this? Sara didn’t care. This realization made her feel almost giddy.

Back at her building, Penn paid the driver and then climbed out of the cab. As usual he came round to her side to open her door. She accepted his outstretched hand and stepped out into the cool evening air. They walked into her building, Penn’s arm comfortably around her shoulders. 

They stepped into the elevator, and as soon as the doors closed he turned her to face him. His cool fingers traced the line of her jaw and then his lips touched hers. She moaned and threw her arms around him. He moved her against the wall and pressed his body to hers. 

They stayed like that, kissing deeply, all the way up to her floor. Sara’s eyes closed and the outside world dropped away. She wanted nothing more than to feel Penn’s hands all over her body. Excitement began to build. She had wanted this for so long…

“Ex _cuse_ me!”

Sara broke the kiss. Her heart was galloping and her breathing was ragged. Blinking, disoriented, she turned to face the speaker.

Mrs. O’Leary, her neighbor from down the hall, stood outside the elevator. She had Freddie, her French bulldog, on a leash. Her free hand blocked the door from closing. Her eyes darted from Penn to Sara and her mouth curved down in a sour, disapproving bow. Freddie looked up at them, his head cocked to one side.

Oh. They had arrived on her floor. Sara pulled her arms away from Penn as if she had been caught trying to steal something. 

“Sorry.” Face burning, she hurried out of the elevator, avoiding eye contact with her neighbor. Penn sauntered after her, grinning at Mrs. O’Leary all the while.

Freddie stared at Penn. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

Mrs. O’Leary sighed and muttered something under her breath as she stepped into the elevator. Freddie stayed put, his eyes fixed on Penn. Mrs. O’Leary tugged the leash, clucking her tongue in annoyance. Freddie took two steps and then stopped in the elevator doorway, refusing to budge. He stared at Penn, the hackles rising on his neck. He was growling more loudly now. 

Because it seemed necessary for her to say something, Sara said, “Good night, Mrs. O’Leary.”

The woman frowned at her and once again put up her free hand to keep the elevator door from closing. Her other hand continued to tug on Freddie’s leash. “You two should get a room,” she said.

“That’s an excellent idea,” said Penn. “We’ll do that. Thank you for the suggestion, dear lady.”

Her eyes widened. “What are you, some kind of wiseass?” 

Freddie let loose a series of barks, as if echoing her. He lunged at Penn, straining against his leash, his eyes bugging out. The barking was very loud in the confined space of the elevator. 

“Freddie! Stop it!” Mrs. O’Leary snapped. She jerked on the leash. “What’s gotten into you? Behave yourself!” 

After several seconds of fighting the leash Freddie at last relaxed and waddled into the elevator. As the door closed he started barking again, the noise growing weaker as the elevator descended.

Penn laughed. “Nice lady,” he said. 

“Oh God,” Sara groaned. “I’ll never be able to face her again.”

“Of course you will,” said Penn. “She’s probably jealous of you for having such a handsome and charming lover.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “I’ve met _Mister_ O’Leary.”

Once they were inside Sara’s apartment she said, “That was a weird thing with Freddie. He’s a sweet, friendly dog, but he didn’t like you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him growl before.”

Penn shrugged. “As a rule, dogs don’t like vampires. I don’t know why.”

She chuckled. “Then I’m glad I don’t have a dog.”

He beamed at her. “Aren’t you sweet.”

A warm glow started in her belly and her hands shook slightly as she hung up their jackets. 

There was a brief, awkward silence. Penn and Sara looked at each other. Neither seemed willing to speak first. Finally Sara cleared her throat and said, “Would – would you like something to drink?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I think you know what I want, Sara.”

She swallowed hard and shuffled her feet. “Yes.” 

“Is it what you want too?”

Emotion overwhelmed her and she couldn’t speak. Instead she nodded, blinking back tears.

He held out his hand. “Then let’s go into the bedroom.”

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her.

Once in her bedroom Penn flicked on the bedside lamp and sat on the edge of her bed. He leaned back a little and looked her over. 

“Strip for me,” he said softly. “You don’t have to dance or put on a show. Just…do it slowly. Let me see that beautiful body, Sara.”

She licked her lips and swallowed had. “All right.” Her voice was low, throaty. 

She felt excited and a little shy at the same time. Very conscious of his gaze on her body, she slipped off her shoes and kicked them aside. Her hands went to the neck of her black blouse and slowly slipped the buttons, one by one. Of their own accord her hips began to sway a little from side to side, as if moving to music only she could hear. When the buttons were all undone she slipped the blouse off and let it slide down her back to billow to the floor. 

She glanced up at Penn. He was watching her intently. His eyes seemed a shade darker now.

She blushed a little and looked away. Her hands trembled a bit as she unbuttoned the top button of her black slacks and pulled down the zipper. It made a faint ripping noise in the absolute quiet of her bedroom. She grabbed the waistband of the slacks and slowly pushed down the garment until it puddled on the floor around her feet. 

A little awkwardly she lifted first one leg, then the other, to step out of the discarded pants. Miraculously she managed to free herself from them and kick them aside without getting tangled up in the material and falling on her ass. Next came her thin black socks. She was very thankful that she hadn’t worn pantyhose today. Getting those off would have been a real struggle, and it would have been very hard to look sexy while doing it. 

Now with her pants and socks off, Sara straightened up, standing before him, barefoot and wearing only her white bra and panties. She put her hands on her hips and looked at him again. 

_I’m his. I’m doing this at his command._

Her breathing quickened and she felt heat building up inside her. 

Penn didn’t move, just sat there looking at her. His eyes moved over her body, lingering here and there. Each glance felt like a gentle touch. She had feared that being “his” meant that he wanted to treat her like a whore, make her feel dirty. But he wasn’t leering at her. His gaze was honest and admiring. 

His eyes met hers and he grinned. She smiled back, although her face was still flaming.

Slowly she pushed down each strap of her bra, then worked the hooks. She pulled the bra free and tossed it aside. He made a soft “Ahh” sound and she felt a tingle. She had always thought that her breasts were somewhat smallish. Greg had certainly thought so. He’d had plenty to say about her body and her approach to sex. 

_Don’t think about Greg, not tonight._

She ran her hands over the smooth fair skin, trying to see herself the way Penn saw her. The pale pink nipples were beginning to stiffen and she tweaked them lightly. The sensation made her gasp. It felt good, but she wanted Penn’s touch, his kiss. It felt as though years had passed since she had last felt his caress.

There was only a scrap of white cotton between her and total nakedness…and consummation. The word made her feel warm all over. But it also scared her a little. It would be the first time that she had ever been penetrated by something bigger than a finger. How would it feel? Would it hurt? Her girlfriends back in high school had discussed this topic at length, even though they had no firsthand knowledge to draw upon. Jackie Cummins said that her sister had told her that her first time had felt like an iron bar ramming into her. The image had made the girls shudder.

“Sara?” His voice broke into her reverie. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Oh, uh, I’m just a little nervous, is all.” 

“Nervous? Why? We’ve been naked together before. We know each other’s bodies so well. There’s no reason for you to be shy with me.”

“No, uh, I guess not.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there? Tell me.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and looked away from Penn to the floor in front of her feet. A lump formed in her throat. 

“You’re not still afraid of me, are you? I thought we’d moved past that.”

That voice. That damnable hypnotic voice. He was doing it again, casting a spell on her.

“Shit,” she whispered. In the books she’d read, this was the part where the heroine told her lover that she had never been with a man and then in a trembling voice asked him to be gentle with her. But her brain was freezing up on her, refusing to supply those words. She closed her eyes.

“Sara? Look at me.” Just the barest edge to his voice. 

She opened her eyes again and was disgusted to find that tears were welling up. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and then with difficulty met his gaze.

“We need to be honest with each other, dear,” he said. “I’m your lover and your master, you can’t keep secrets from me.”

“I know. I’m just…embarrassed.”

Penn looked confused. “About stripping for me? Why? You’re beautiful and you looked so hot doing it. You know how I worship your body.” He frowned as if something had just occurred to him. “Do you think it’s dirty? Because it isn’t.”

“I know. The way you looked at me…I didn’t feel dirty at all.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem?”

Sara took a deep breath and decided to just come out and get it over with. “It’s all so new to me, Penn. I don’t just mean the master-slave stuff. I’ve done things with you that I’ve never done with any man before. And if we’re going to – to make love tonight, you should know that I’ve never done that before, either.”

“You’re a virgin.” He didn’t make it a question. She nodded and held her breath. Waited for the putdown.

Penn smiled. “I thought so.”

She exhaled. “You _knew_? All this time?”

“I suspected. When we’re playing, sometimes you seem a little tentative, a little unsure. It’s charming.” His expression became dreamy. “You get this look. This wide-eyed innocent look, like you never believed something could feel so good. To see that look on your face and to know that I brought it on… It really excites me, Sara. I love it.”

She wiped her eyes. Relief surged through her.

Penn cocked his head. “Is that why you were nervous? You thought I’d be angry because you’re inexperienced?” 

“Yeah, I did,” she said. “I – had a problem with my last boyfriend. It’s hard to explain.” 

“You don’t have to explain anything. Look, we all have to start somewhere, right? Even I was a virgin once upon a time. Can you believe it?” He laughed and she smiled. 

Suddenly he was standing in front of her. He had moved so quickly her brain hadn’t even registered it. She blinked and tried to step back, but Penn’s arms wrapped around her, capturing her. She gasped. He was so unbelievably strong. There was no way she’d ever break free. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“This makes me want you more than ever,” he whispered. “It’s such an honor to be your first. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll take it nice and slow. I’ll make you feel so good, Sara.” He nuzzled her ear. “Tell me who you belong to, little one.”

“You,” she said. “I belong to you.”

“That’s right, pet. Every inch of your gorgeous body is mine. Don’t you forget it.” He lowered his head and she lifted hers to meet his kiss. His embrace loosened slightly, enough to allow her to slip her arms around him. She could feel him against her, hard and ready. She moaned and stroked his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles under his shirt.

He moved away from her mouth. “Oh, I have such plans for you, pet. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” 

“Good,” he whispered, and kissed her again.


	19. Claimed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn and Sara consummate their relationship at last.

After a kiss that seemed to steal all of her breath, Penn took a step back and gave her shoulders one last squeeze. “Now, would you like to help me out of these clothes?”

“I’d love to,” she said.

The first thing she did was to carefully take off his glasses. She placed them on the bedside table and then turned back to him. 

He was wearing the midnight blue silk shirt that she liked so much. She couldn’t resist gliding her fingertips over the soft material before quickly undoing the buttons. He stood still, watching her as she undid each button. The material whispered against his skin as she gently tugged it off his body. 

Sara held the garment in her hands and then brought it up to her nose, reveling in the familiar sandalwood scent. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

As she exhaled she opened her eyes and saw that Penn was looking at her, one eyebrow raised, a small smile playing around his lips. She flushed, suddenly self-conscious. “I, uh, I’ve always liked your scent,” she said.

He nodded. “I’ve noticed.”

She glanced down at the shirt in her hands and couldn’t bear to just throw it on the floor. Instead, she walked over to her desk and draped it on the back of the chair. She looked back at Penn again and he was grinning broadly.

“My perfect hostess.” He held out his hand. “Come to me.”

Sara padded over to him and took his hand. She could imagine the centuries of power thrumming beneath that cool skin. She stroked his palm with her fingertips, savoring the feel of him. Her fear was gone, replaced by a feeling of peace and acceptance that was very welcome after all the turmoil of the past two weeks. 

Looking into her eyes he said, “I put my mark on you and now I claim you as my own.” The words sounded oddly formal, as if he were reciting an incantation. 

Her breathing quickened. For the first time his talk of claiming her didn’t frighten her. Instead, his words filled her with anticipation. He was so beautiful, his pale chest almost gleaming like marble in the soft light of her bedroom. 

Sara licked her lips and suddenly felt the urge to tear off his remaining clothing. She reached for his belt and began to work on the buckle. Her hands were shaking a little and she couldn’t quite undo it. Without a word Penn helped her. She let out a little sigh of relief as the buckle opened.

Working together, they managed to undress him. Sara made sure to touch Penn’s body as often as possible. His knowing smirk told her that he didn’t object to this at all. Soon his clothes and shoes joined Sara’s on the bedroom floor. He stood naked before her, smiling as she looked him over from head to toe. She had seen him nude before, but tonight she wanted to imprint every detail of his body on her memory. 

His hard cock caught her eye and she couldn’t resist running her fingers over the smooth skin. He groaned.

“I missed those soft hands of yours,” he said.

She smiled and stroked him again. “I missed touching you,” she said. “I thought about you every night these past two weeks.”

“Oh really?” He ran his hands up and down her sides. “And were they naughty thoughts?”

She giggled as he hit a ticklish spot. “Extremely naughty.”

“I’m all in favor of naughty thoughts, but I think it’s time for some naughty action.” 

She was about to agree when his mouth covered hers and there was no need to reply. His arms closed around her and before she knew what was happening he lifted her up, one arm around her shoulders and the other under her bottom. She let out a startled yelp and threw her arms around his neck. His strength and quickness could still surprise her.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t let go.”

He chuckled. “Never.”

She tightened her grip on him as he carried her the short distance to the bed and gently laid her on it.   
He stood by the bed, looking down at her. Again she felt as if each glance was a gentle touch. 

“You’re so lovely,” he said. “I’ll never forget the way you look right now.”

She squirmed a little. Warmth kindled in her belly. “Come join me,” she whispered.

He slid into bed with her. Their bodies tangled in the sheets as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close for a deep kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring the warm wet interior. Her own tongue met his and she let out a muffled moan as they touched. She moved against him, yearning to get closer even though they were already skin to skin. 

Penn broke the kiss and with a smirk trailed his fingers in a teasing line down her body, stopping at the waistband of her panties. “You forgot to take these off,” he said. His fingers dipped beneath the elastic, lightly stroking her belly. “When I tell you to strip, young lady, I mean _everything_.” His tone was stern, but his eyes crinkled just enough to let her know he was being playful.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Sara tried to sound contrite but she couldn’t stop grinning. “I’ll do better next time.”

“See that you do. Or else I’ll have to punish you.” 

“Yes sir.” A delicious little shiver ran down Sara’s spine at the word “punish”. All kinds of possibilities suggested themselves.

He kissed her forehead and gently tugged at the panties. She twisted and arched her body to help him pull them down and off her. He held the panties in one hand, looked at them, and chuckled. 

“White cotton again. I think I need to make another trip to Joie De Vivre. I can’t have my pet wearing white cotton.” 

“But it’s practical.”

“And boring. I want to wrap your body in silk and satin. And then _un_ wrap it.”

He tossed the panties over the side of the bed and then turned back to her. He pulled her tight against him. “I can hear your heart racing,” he said. “You’re nervous.”

“A little.” She hesitated and then thought, _Why lie?_ “I’m afraid it will hurt. When you…put it in.” She uttered a nervous laugh. “I’m used to your fingers, but this is a little bigger than a finger.”

The night of Jackie’s slumber party came back to her. She could hear Jackie repeating her sister’s story about losing her virginity. _Debbie said it felt like he was tearing her apart_ , Jackie said in a low voice as the girls listened in horrified fascination. _There was a big blood spot on the sheet. The blood wouldn’t come out no matter how many times she washed it. She had to throw it out so that Mom wouldn’t find out._

“And I’ve heard that girls bleed the first time,” she added.

“That can happen if the man is too rough, or if he moves in before the woman is ready for him,” said Penn. “But it doesn’t always happen. Maybe it’s a cliché to say this, but I really will be gentle, Sara.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Trust me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

“Good. And if it does hurt, tell me. I want this to be good for you.”

“Okay.” His words made her feel a little better. She let out a long exhale. Her body relaxed as some of the anxiety drained out of her. 

“That’s good, dear,” Penn whispered. “Breathe. Feel my touch. Forget about everything except your body.” His fingers lightly stroked her breasts. A jolt of pure sensation traveled to her clit. She closed her eyes and caressed his back. 

His lips explored the hollow of her throat. They brushed the spot where he had bitten her and she tensed, half-expecting him to bite her again. She wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. 

“Don’t worry,” Penn whispered. “No biting, unless you want me to.” 

“Maybe – maybe another night,” she said.

He looked at her. His smile said that he knew her deepest secrets. “If you like,” he said.

Of course he already knew that she had enjoyed the pain-pleasure mix during their first encounter. She had as good as confessed it to him the night he met her outside her building. At the time she had been ashamed, but now her feelings seemed to be…evolving. 

Penn bent his head to her neck again and lavished attention on that spot, gently kissing and nuzzling it. The gentle scratching of his goatee against her flesh made her squirm and whimper. Her nails dug into his back but he didn’t seem to notice.

He made his leisurely way down her body, teasing her with his fingers, lips and tongue. By now he knew all her favorite spots, and how she liked to be touched. Gentle tongue twirls around each nipple, bringing the little peaks of flesh to full stiffness. Soft, gentle kisses in the valley between her breasts. Lazy circles drawn around her navel, first with his fingers, then with his tongue. Light, almost ticklish caresses down her sides. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into a warm bath of sensation. Her arousal built steadily.

When he reached her sex, he paused, teasing the mound with his fingers. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. Penn seemed to be waiting for her permission to go further. 

She was only too happy to grant it. Her legs parted for him. He let out a low growl and moved in. 

He slipped his fingers into his mouth and wet them. Very gently he began to rub and caress her clit. His free hand teased her inner thigh. Little muscles jumped and twitched with each caress.

Sara’s body stiffened and she gasped, clutching at the sheets. Penn kept up the soft, gentle rubbing, smiling at the little sounds she made. 

“You’re so wet,” he said. He slowly slid a finger inside her and wiggled it, all the while continuing to tease her clit with his other hand. He kept this up until she began to squeak and then he slowed his actions. There was a brief pause and then he started to caress her again. This time he played with her until she was just a touch or two away from climaxing – and then he stopped again. 

“Please, Penn.” The top of her head felt as if it might pop off.

“Please what, dear?”

“Please – no more teasing.”

He gave her an innocent expression. “Teasing? Me? Since when do I tease?”

“Damn it, Penn, you’re driving me nuts,” she rasped. 

“Oh, but you love it.” He blew gently on her sex and she made a strangled sound. “See?”

He was right. She loved it but right now she was very close to hating it. 

“You want me to play with your clit? You want me to lick your clit until you come? Talk to me, darling.” 

He moved in and licked along her slit, long slow strokes up and down. Each pass of his tongue teased around her button, but never touched it directly. 

She groaned. “Yes! I _need_ to come.”

“Beg me to make you come, Sara.” He looked up at her and his eyes crinkled with mischief. “I’ll make you feel so good. All you have to do is beg me.”

“You’re evil.” She laughed, but there was a note of desperation in it.

“It’s part of my charm. Beg me, Sara.”

Her clit was throbbing, aching for any contact at all. It was maddening. Just a few caresses would bring her to climax. Her toes curled and uncurled. She felt as if she were at his mercy.

This was a favorite game for him. Penn was a habitual teaser. He was so familiar with her body, and he knew damn well what drove her crazy. His usual game was to pretend that he was unaware of the effect he was having on her. But this was the first time he had used the word “beg”. He was giving her a glimpse of his dominant side. It was thrilling. Of course she was going to give in. 

“Please, Penn,” she said. “Lick me. Make me come.” The words made her shiver.

He raised an eyebrow but made no move to grant her request. 

She swallowed hard. “I’m –I’m begging you.”

He smiled. “Well done.” He moved in again and she whimpered as his tongue flicked her clit ever so gently. 

“Don’t stop. Please.”

He made an approving sound. His tongue swirled around her clit, and she let out a long, ragged sigh. He kept up the swirling action, and then he slid a second finger inside her, gently thrusting in and out. She moaned and grabbed fistfuls of sheets. The muscles in her belly tightened and then orgasm washed over her. His mouth and fingers continued to coax pleasure from her, only stopping when her body went limp and she lay spent on the sheets, panting.

Penn moved up to take her in his arms. He held her close as she came back to herself. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Oh God, yes.” She smiled at him and stroked his cheek. 

They lay close for a few minutes, gently touching each other as her breathing returned to normal. Sara couldn’t ignore his cock pressing against her belly. His obvious desire reawakened her own lust. Her fingers made their way down to his chest, gliding lightly over the cool skin. “I want more,” she whispered.

“Oh you do?”

“Yes.” She lowered her head and kissed his chest. Her tongue darted out and licked his nipple.

“Greedy girl,” he said. She chuckled and continued to tongue his nipple while her other hand wandered down to his belly, tracing the taut muscles.

Penn moaned softly and she glanced up at his face. His eyes were half-closed and he was smiling. “I love the way you touch me,” he said.

Her teeth lightly grazed his nipple and she was rewarded with another moan. “I want you, Penn,” she said. “I want you inside me.” The words sent a thrill straight to her clit. Just saying them made her feel incredibly wanton.

He grinned at her. “Excellent.” He rolled onto his back. “I want you to get on top of me,” he said.

She gave him a puzzled look. “Why?”

“It gives you more control over how deep I go into you. And besides,” he gave her that wicked smile that made her insides clench, “I want to look up at you as you ride me.”

His words painted a picture in her mind that she could not resist. “Okay.” She scrambled on top of Penn, straddling him. His hard cock lay against his belly. She reached down and gently stroked it. Penn made a small sound.

“When you’re ready, I want you to guide me inside you,” he said. His voice was a little hoarse. 

Sara took Penn’s cock in her hand and raised up a little. She rubbed the tip against her wet opening. The action produced a sound that was almost like a kiss. Penn let out another sound, half moan, half sigh. 

She sucked in a deep breath and eased the head inside her. There was some discomfort, close to pain but not quite. “Unh.”

“Go at your own pace,” he murmured. His voice was slightly unsteady.

“Yes,” she agreed, just barely whispering. “It’s – it’s not so bad.”

His cock’s entry wasn’t nearly as painful as she had feared. This was a pleasant surprise. For the first time she wondered if Jackie’s sister had exaggerated her story for dramatic effect.

She exhaled and slowly lowered herself onto him, grimacing and grunting softly as the rest of his cock entered her. There was a little pain but it was tolerable. When he was fully inserted she was still for a moment, breathing hard, getting used to the fullness. 

Penn sighed as he looked up at her. “It feels so good to be inside you. Soft. Warm. Like velvet. It’s just the way I imagined it.” He reached up and ran his fingers over her hips. “How are you doing? Feeling okay?”

Sara looked down at him. “Yeah, I feel okay.”

“Hmmmm. That’s good.” Penn lazily traced figure eights on her hips.

The slight discomfort faded after a few moments. Instinct took over and she began to move on him, rising up slowly and then descending again. Penn gently gripped her hips and matched her rhythm, thrusting up to meet her. She gasped and picked up a little speed. Penn kept pace with her. Sweat popped out on her hairline. 

“Oh Sara,” he gasped. “Sweet girl.” One of his hands wandered to her clit and began to tease it.

She couldn’t form words, she was too overwhelmed by the sensations. With each thrust his cock kept hitting a delicious spot deep inside her. The muscles in her belly tightened. Penn’s fingers rubbed her clit. They moved together as a single entity, perfectly in sync with each other, both of them in pursuit of the same goal. The bedsprings squeaked in time with their movements.

Her eyes closed and she gave herself over to the rush of sensation. Her orgasm pulsed through her and she threw her head back, mouth wide open in a silent cry.

Penn grunted as she clenched around his cock and then he came. Sara was vaguely aware of his cock spasming inside her as she shuddered through another wave of pleasure. 

Eventually the waves faded away and her body slumped a little. Her head dropped and she had to hold on to Penn’s hips to keep from tumbling off of him. Sweat-soaked hair fell around her face. They stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly coming back to earth. 

When she felt she could move again she raised up to let his soft cock slip out of her. She dragged herself up to lie beside him. Her breathing slowed and she looked at Penn through half-lidded eyes.

He turned to look at her. He wore a lazy, satisfied smile. “Was it the way you dreamed, pet?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she said. “I’m so happy right now…I can’t even describe it.”

He put an arm around her and she curled up on his chest. “You were wonderful.” He kissed the top of her head.

Her eyelids began to droop. The events of the last two weeks and this evening suddenly crashed over her. The anxiety and stress were gone now, replaced by a delightful sense of contentment. 

Sleep beckoned and would not be denied. Her body relaxed and as her eyes closed she murmured, “I love you, Penn.” 

Seconds later she was asleep. If he responded, she didn’t hear it.


	20. Brand New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn and Sara wake up after their first full night together.

Sara woke up slowly to the sight of daylight filling the bedroom. She blinked up at the ceiling, then smiled and burrowed deeper under the covers, luxuriating in the feel of the cool sheets. Her skin tingled with the memories of last night’s pleasure. She didn’t want to get out of bed just yet. There were errands to run, but surely they could wait. It felt so good to just lie here and relax.

She had slept uninterrupted through the night and for the first time in two weeks she felt refreshed after a night’s sleep. Hard to believe how much things had changed for her within the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday things had seemed so bleak and sad and now the past two weeks of emotional torment were already becoming a distant memory.

She turned her head to her left and her eyes widened at the sight of Penn lying beside her. Emotion swelled inside her and she couldn’t breathe for a moment. He had stayed the night! She thought of all those nights when he had left before dawn. Even though she had accepted his excuses (up to a point), each departure had left her with a sad little ache in her chest. She hadn’t known the truth about him then, but now that she did, the simple act of his staying the night took on a special significance. 

A scary new thought occurred to her. Had he put himself in danger just to stay with her? 

She remembered what he had said to Val last night. How the sun would make a vampire burst into flames. She had seen it in movies. Christopher Lee turning into a pile of dust after being exposed to sunlight. And a more recent film, Daybreakers, in which vampires caught in the sunlight burst into flames and burned to death. She couldn’t bear to see such a thing happen to Penn. 

She sat up in bed. Anxiety pulsed through her, making her heart race. Her stomach felt as if it were full of hot needles. The bedroom window was at the end of the room, past the foot of the bed. The blinds and the curtains were drawn, although some light did filter through. Even so, the bed was far enough away from the window that the light didn’t touch the bed directly. 

Sara forced herself to calm down. Penn was over three hundred years old. He hadn’t lived that long without learning how to avoid the sunlight. He had probably noted the position of her window on his first night here. She could picture him gauging his risk of exposure, calculating the angles of how and where the sunlight would shine through at any given point of the day. He was not stupid and he certainly wasn’t careless. If he didn’t think he would be safe, he would not have stayed.

Reassured, she lay down again and turned on her side to watch him. She had never seen him asleep before. He was so beautiful. She ached to touch him but didn’t want to wake him. How deep was his sleep? Did he dream? He gave no outward sign that anything was going on behind his closed eyelids. He was completely still and quiet.

The covers were pushed down almost to his hips. His head was tilted slightly to one side and his spiky hair was flattened in places. She was a little disappointed that he didn’t have his arms crossed over his chest, instead they lay at his sides. _You have been watching too many movies,_ she chided herself, smiling slightly. 

His chest didn’t rise and fall with the regular rhythm of respiration that she took for granted in her own body. His face was expressionless. There wasn’t a single sign of life. It was kind of spooky, to be honest. He was like a life-size dummy (she didn’t want to think “corpse”). Would he stay like this until night came again?

She watched him sleep, letting her thoughts drift. At some point her eyes closed and she dozed off… 

Something was brushing her skin, just above the collarbone. The touch was light and gentle, and her sleeping brain interpreted it as a butterfly settling onto her body. She could almost see the little creature, its orange and black wings fluttering slightly as it perched on her skin. How had a butterfly gotten into her bedroom? 

It was tickling her and she snorted and moved away, rolling onto her back.

The light touch returned a few seconds later, this time centering on the soft valley between her breasts. The tickly sensation made her giggle and brought her up out of her light doze. She came awake to see Penn leaning over her. His lips were gently brushing her cleavage. 

Penn looked up at her, smiling. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

She stroked his hair. “Good morning. What are you doing up? I thought vampires slept all day.”

Penn settled onto his side and stroked her cheek. “Some do, especially after being turned. The body needs more rest because it’s still adjusting to the change. When I was a newborn I slept all day, but as I get older I need less and less sleep. Three or four hours are usually enough for me.”

Sara nodded, fascinated by this new information. Once again the movies had gotten a number of facts wrong. “But what do you do with yourself once you’re awake? You can’t go outside until sunset. Don’t you get bored?”

“Oh, it’s not so bad. I find ways to occupy my time. I read. I draw in my sketchpad. Sometimes I’ll watch a movie.” He gave her a sly smile. “And when I have a companion to play with, the time flies.”

She chuckled. “Oh, I’ll bet it does.” Then her mood grew serious. “When I woke up and saw you here, I got a little scared. I was afraid that the sun might burn you. I thought I’d have to start putting tinfoil on the windows.”

Penn leaned in and gave her a light kiss on the jaw. “You’re so sweet. But there’s no need to worry. I’m safe as long as I don’t step into direct sunlight. Keep the curtains drawn and I’m fine. I have blackout curtains at home. They do a great job of shutting out the sunlight. If you’re interested, I can give you the name of the shop where I bought mine. They’re not terribly expensive.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll look into getting some.” She turned onto her side and pressed herself against Penn. “Because I’m planning on having you as a frequent overnight guest, and I want you to be safe and comfortable here. You know, since I’m the perfect hostess and all.”

He rubbed his nose against hers. “That suits me just fine. I love staying here.”

“Good.“ She frowned as something occurred to her. “So, wait. You mean, you could have stayed the night all along?”

“Yes. As long as I didn’t let the direct sunlight touch me come daybreak, I would have been fine.”

“So, if the sunlight wasn’t the reason why you left early, then why did you leave at all?” All the old questions and suspicions were suddenly alive again, lurking in the back of her mind.

Penn stroked her hair. “I had to leave because I didn’t have a good cover story to explain why I needed to stay indoors until sunset. What if you wanted to go out? What would I say? It was easier to leave early.” 

He frowned. “Wait. Not easier. It wasn’t easy at all to leave you. What I meant was, it was the only choice I had because I wasn’t ready to tell you the truth about myself. I had a plan for when and where and how I would tell you. I wanted you to feel completely comfortable with me, so that the truth wouldn’t frighten you. But then Trish came along and upset my timetable.”

“I guess she did screw things up – oh shit.” She slapped the mattress.

“What is it?”

“Trish. I owe her a call. Lots of calls, actually. I haven’t spoken to her since that night. I was so messed up, I just didn’t have the energy to talk to her. I knew she’d have questions and I didn’t know what to say.” She rubbed her eyes. “Ugh, she must think I’m pissed at her. She probably hates me.”

Penn gave her a quick kiss. “She doesn’t hate you, but you should definitely call her today. You don’t want her to think you’ve written her off. You shouldn’t lose a friendship over a misunderstanding.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Seems to me that you of all people would want her gone from my life after what she did.”

Penn shook his head. “I don’t like the way she snooped around, but there was no real harm done. She didn’t come close to finding out the truth about me, and I understand why she did it. She wasn’t being nosy. She did what she did because she cares about you. I respect her for that.” He leaned in for another quick kiss. “So call her today. Okay?”

She smiled. “Yes, sir.”

His smile widened. “Have I told you how much I like it when you call me sir?”

“I think you have. Once or twice.” 

“Well, I’m glad you’ve taken it to heart.” Penn rolled onto his back and put an arm around her. She curled up with her head on his chest.

There was a long, comfortable silence, then Penn said, “How are you feeling after last night?”

Sara considered the question. “I feel pretty good,” she finally said. “Maybe a little sore, I guess that’s to be expected, but I have no regrets.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “And I’m glad you were my first.”

“It was an honor and a privilege,” he said. “And a great pleasure as well.”

She cuddled closer to him. “All those weeks of buildup, of doing ‘everything but’. I didn’t understand why you were taking things so slowly. I was so impatient for you to…to take me all the way, but I get it now. And I think I appreciate last night even more because you took the approach you did.”

Penn stroked her hair. “I was hoping you’d see it that way. I wasn’t deliberately drawing things out to tease or frustrate you. I wanted you as much as you wanted me, but I wanted to take things slowly because I could tell you were new to all this. And then I realized that it would be better to wait until after I had revealed myself. It didn’t feel right to take that next step while there was this big secret between us.” 

He chuckled. “Of course, things didn’t go quite according to plan. Again. But we still ended up here, where we both wanted to be.”

“Yes.” She fell silent, stroking his chest, savoring the closeness of him, the feel of his arm around her. 

She didn’t know how much time passed, but soon the demands of her bladder became impossible to ignore. She turned over and glanced at the clock on the night table.

“Wow, it’s almost ten,” she said. “Guess it’s time to start the day.”

Penn pouted. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in bed all day?”

She leaned over and kissed him. “As tempting as that sounds, I have some things to do, but maybe later we could have some playtime?”

Penn grinned at her. “Anytime you’re ready, dear.”

She kissed him again. “Wonderful. I’m going to shower and then see about breakfast.”

“Okay. I get the shower after you.”

*****

While Penn used the shower Sara straightened up the bedroom. She found her clothes from last night and slipped into the bathroom to put them in the hamper. 

The water in the shower was going full blast and the bathroom was steamy. He was singing softly, a tune she didn’t recognize. Through the plastic shower curtain she could see the outline of Penn’s nude body and she had to push back the temptation to peek at him through the curtain. Instead she put her dirty clothes in the hamper and left the bathroom. A few beads of sweat had popped out on her forehead, which were not entirely due to the steam from the shower.

Back in the bedroom, she gathered Penn’s clothes and placed them on the desk chair where she had draped his silk shirt last night. He wouldn’t have anything clean to wear after he got out of the shower. Well, there was nothing she could do about that. Nothing of hers would fit him. Maybe once he became a regular overnight guest he would keep some of his things here. There was some room in her closet and she could let him have a drawer in her dresser. She could make room in the bathroom for his toiletries.

Maybe at some point they would move in together. More than once Penn had praised her cozy apartment. He would probably be happy living here with her. Then they would be “shacking up”. According to her mother, that was the worst thing a young woman could do. Living with a man outside of marriage was the height of immorality. 

What would she say if Sara and Penn moved in together? Sara could imagine the very loud conversation they would have. Well, it probably wouldn’t be much of a conversation, as Sara doubted that she’d get a word in edgewise. There was a time when this prospect would have tied Sara’s insides into a knot, but now she just shrugged. If she and Penn began living together, Vera would just have to deal with it. 

She tightened the belt on her robe and picked up her wide-toothed comb from the night stand. Her hair was still wet from her own shower. She sat on the edge of the bed and carefully began to comb out the tangles. She got lost in the task and didn’t hear Penn enter the room.

“I thought all young ladies did their hair at their vanity table.”

She started slightly. “What?”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you, but you don’t have a vanity table?”

Sara gestured at the small space of her bedroom. “No room for it. I decided the space would be better used for my computer.” She was trying not to notice that he was naked except for a towel around his waist. 

“Fair enough, but your hair deserves a little pampering and I’m just the one to do it. Just a minute while I make myself decent.” He looked around the room.

“Your clothes are on the chair there.”

“Thanks.” He walked over to the desk and dropped the towel. A warm flush crept up her neck at the sight of his bare ass. She wanted to run her hands over those firm globes. Maybe give them a pinch or even spank them a little. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle.

She was almost disappointed when he pulled on his pants. He slipped into the midnight blue shirt, leaving the first couple of buttons undone. He didn’t bother with socks or shoes. 

“Step this way into the Salon de Penn, Madame,” he said. “One chair, no waiting.” He gestured at her desk chair, sweeping his arm with a grand flourish.

She giggled and stood up. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to comb your hair. Since you don’t have a vanity table, this desk will do.”

“I can comb my own hair, Penn.” Even as she protested she was crossing the room to her desk, comb in hand.

“I know you can, but I like to take any opportunity to touch you. Please, indulge me.” He gestured at the chair and she sat.

Penn gently picked up her hair from the back of her neck and fluffed it out so that it fell onto her shoulders. Then he took the comb from her and worked it through her hair. 

She had already done most of the detangling, so the comb’s teeth slid easily through her hair for several strokes. Suddenly it hit a small snarl at the back. He laid down the comb and used his fingers to unsnarl it. She tensed, expecting him to yank on her hair and hurt her. But Penn was very gentle, carefully separating the matted strands without causing her too much discomfort. When the snarl was gone he returned to the comb. It slid easily through the now tangle-free section of hair. “Lovely,” he murmured.

When Penn was satisfied that there were no more tangles he gestured for the brush and she gave it to him. By now her hair was almost completely dry, and he began to brush it with long, gentle strokes, periodically picking up her hair and fluffing it out with his hands. Sara relaxed in the chair and closed her eyes, giving herself up to the strangely pleasurable feeling. Strands of hair grazed the back of her neck in a feather-light caress. The sensation made her catch her breath. 

Penn didn’t speak as he worked, all his attention focused on brushing her hair. The only sounds in the room were the faint whisper of the brush and the occasional crackle of static electricity.

At last he leaned in and whispered, “I love the scent of your shampoo. There’s just a hint of lavender. It’s intoxicating.”

She swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she murmured.

He stroked her hair and let out another approving sound. “It’s dry. Come have a look at yourself.” He held out his hand and she took it. He helped her to her feet and they walked together over to the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. 

Sara looked at her reflection and could hardly believe her eyes. Her hair fell to her shoulders in a soft curtain. She had always had a little trouble taming the flyaways in the past, but Penn had managed to keep every strand in place. Her hair seemed to glow with vitality and health. 

She grinned at herself. “I love it,” she said. “You’ve got the job of my personal stylist, if you want it.”

“I’m flattered, Madame.” He put his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. 

“What do you charge for your service?” She gave him a playful smile and leaned into his body.

“Well, let’s see,” he said. “Because you’re my favorite customer, I think a kiss will be sufficient.”

She nodded. “I think that’s fair.” She turned and put her arms around him. His arms encircled her and pulled her close. His head lowered and they kissed in front of the mirror.

When they broke apart, Penn smiled down at her. “You’re so beautiful.”

She looked up at him and suddenly a painful lump formed in her throat. Tears stung her eyes and she looked away, blinking rapidly to suppress them.

Penn noticed the change in attitude. “What’s wrong, darling?” he asked.

Sara shook her head and cleared her throat to try and get rid of the lump. “Nothing, I’m okay.” Her voice was a harsh croak.

Penn touched her chin and then gently tilted her head up so that she was looking into his eyes. “You’re _not_ okay. Clearly something is wrong. Tell me.”

She sighed. “It’s stupid, really.”

“It isn’t. Tell me.”

She sighed again. “It’s just…you always make me feel beautiful. Last night, you made me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet. I loved feeling that way. I’ve never felt like that before.”

He cocked his head and gave her a puzzled look. “Never?”

Sara sighed and tightened her arms around him. “I’ve had two serious boyfriends before you. The first one never touched me. He said he wanted to save himself for marriage, but I think that was just an excuse. He never showed me any affection. He wanted a business partner, not a wife. And Greg, the second boyfriend, well…” Her eyes began to sting again as tears threatened. “He hurt me.”

Penn’s expression was grave. “Did he hit you?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. It was just…things he said. They still hurt.” She cleared her throat again. “Listen, if we’re going to talk about this, is it okay if I have some coffee first? Maybe some breakfast?”

“Of course,” said Penn. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it at all if you don’t want to. I just don’t like to see you upset.”

She managed a smile. “I know. But I think I do want to talk about it. Sometimes I feel like Greg is hanging over me, casting a shadow over my life. I want to get him out of my system once and for all.”

Penn smiled back at her and stroked her cheek. “Okay, then. Let’s have some breakfast and then if you want to talk I’ll be happy to listen.”

“Okay.” Sara let out a long exhale and just like that, the painful lump in her throat was gone. 

Hand in hand they walked out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. She was looking forward to breakfast, but not necessarily to telling Penn about Greg. She had never really talked with anyone about the gory details of the breakup. Trish knew that Greg had cheated on her, but little else. Admitting that was embarrassing enough; Sara could not bring herself to tell Trish about the ugly confrontation that had followed her discovery of the infidelity. But now that she and Penn had achieved this new intimacy, maybe she could unburden herself to him. 

Maybe this was a new day in more ways than one.


	21. Mending Fences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Trish catch up and clear the air.

Once they were in the kitchen Sara put on a pot of coffee and then set the table. She went to the fridge and took out some eggs and milk. Penn seated himself at the kitchen table as she cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl. He watched her as she poured in a little milk and began to beat the eggs. 

Ordinarily she would have felt self-conscious about someone watching her while she worked, but she didn’t mind Penn’s close attention. As she beat the eggs she glanced up at him and smiled. He had washed the gel out of his hair and now it was loose and wavy, falling in soft bangs over his forehead. It was a different look for him, more boyish. She liked it.

“You’re really comfortable in the kitchen,” he said.

“My mother taught me how to cook. She said I’d need the skill when I got married. I didn’t enjoy it then because she was always so critical of everything I did, even peeling potatoes. ‘Sara, you’re taking off too much of the potato with the peel, you’re wasting food!’” She mimicked Vera in a high, screechy voice.

“Kind of hard to enjoy anything when you have a parent breathing down your neck,” said Penn. “I know how that feels.”

“I didn’t start to enjoy cooking until I was living on my own, maybe because I was cooking for me and not for some future husband.”

“Makes sense,” said Penn. “When you’re taking care of yourself, it’s not a chore.”

“Yes, exactly.” She studied his face. “I guess I can’t make any of my special dishes for you. You’re on a liquid diet.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“So if you get hungry, what do I do? Should I just open a vein?”

Penn raised an eyebrow. “Is that a serious offer?”

Sara had been smiling, but something in his tone wiped it off her face. “No, not really.”

“Don’t offer me blood unless you truly mean it, Sara, because I just might take you up on it.” His tone was stern, not quite angry.

She frowned. “It’s just a joke, Penn. Lighten up. Jeez.”

“Blood is the most precious gift a human can give to a vampire. It’s not something we joke about. If you make an offer like that when I’m really…hungry, I might not be able to tell if you’re kidding.”

“And then what? You’d get all demon-faced and jump on me?”

Penn’s face gave away nothing. “I would try not to.” His tone was as carefully neutral as his expression.

“You’d try? You don’t know if you could control yourself?”

Penn shrugged. “Again, it would depend on how hungry I was. It’s not like human hunger, Sara. It’s primal. Animalistic. Best not to joke about it at all.”

She held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Message received. I didn’t know it was such a big deal, Penn. I’m sorry.”

His expression softened. “Usually when we feed it’s a case of a predator conquering his prey, but once in a while a human may willingly offer their neck or wrist to us and then it’s something different. Something much more intimate.”

His voice deepened a little and suddenly she felt that honey-on-skin sensation again. She swallowed hard. She could imagine submissively offering her neck to him and his fangs puncturing the skin. Memories of their first encounter flooded her mind. That mix of pleasure and pain…that feeling of being overwhelmed and dominated… 

She shivered. It was dangerous to think of such things. It was insane to think of such things. Like looking out the window and wondering what it would be like to jump. 

“Sara?”

She snapped out of her reverie and looked at him. Heat flushed her face. “Do – do people really do that?” she asked. Her voice was husky and a little shaky. “Let you drink from them?”

Penn tilted his head and gave her a long look. “It doesn’t happen often,” he finally said. “Ever since Italy I’ve tried to keep a low profile. Many of my past partners never even knew that I was a vampire. Most of them were one night stands, anyway. But once in a while I would meet someone special. Someone I could trust with my secret. There have been times when that special someone would allow me to drink from them while we made love.”

“Really?” Her eyes felt as though they might pop out of her skull.

“It’s very dangerous, as you can imagine. If I’m especially…hungry, I can drain a person to death in a couple of minutes. But if I’ve fed recently I can take a little bit from a willing partner. Maybe a pint, but no more than that. More than that can harm a human. I need to be very conscious of what I’m doing because it’s so easy to lose control when I’m feeding. But even with all that…it’s such a special experience to drink from a partner who gives me their blood freely.” 

“What makes it so special?”

He smiled. “I can’t really explain it. The trust involved…knowing that someone would surrender to me like that. Place their life in my hands. It’s quite intense, the ultimate in domination and submission.”

Sara let out a breath. Her legs felt a bit unsteady as she went over to the stove and started to heat a frying pan for her eggs. Her neck and shoulders felt tight and her hands shook slightly. All at once the small kitchen seemed to shrink to the size of a closet.

Her back was to him, but she was conscious of his gaze on her. She ignored it and focused on scrambling her eggs. There was silence in the kitchen except for the sizzle and hiss as she pushed the eggs around the pan. After a couple of minutes they were done. The coffee was finished at the same time. She had timed everything perfectly.

Penn watched her silently as she slid the eggs onto a plate and then poured coffee for both of them. She managed to avoid his gaze as she filled his cup. “How – how do you take it?” she asked. “Your coffee, I mean.” 

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Black, no sugar.” He took the cup she offered, sipped and made an appreciative noise. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Good.” She added a spoonful of sugar and just a little milk to her cup. Once the coffee was to her liking she loaded some of the eggs onto her fork and tasted them. They were just right. Nice and fluffy, the way she liked them.

She chewed and he sipped. Neither of them spoke for a minute or two. Finally Penn set the cup down. “Sara, look at me.”

She raised her eyes from her cup. “Yes?”

“I would _never_ take your blood without your permission. You don’t need to worry about that.”

She sighed and then nodded. “Yeah, I know that. I’m sorry about the joke. I was trying to be cute, but I didn’t know that it was such a serious subject. And then the other stuff you said…it reminded me of that first night and well…” 

“My bite aroused you. Thinking about it still arouses you.”

“Yes.” She looked up at him again. “But it’s wrong.”

“Wrong? Why? We’re consenting adults. If you offered, I would accept, but only if you offered it freely. Forcing you to yield your neck to me – _that_ would be wrong. I would never do that to you. And if I bit you, I would take care not to cause you unnecessary pain. Do you trust me not to hurt you?”

“I’m not sure. I’m still learning about you. Getting used to you.”

Penn nodded. “That’s fair. Trust takes time and we’ve had a bit of a bumpy ride, so it will take more time. Just know this, dear: I don’t expect you to give me blood. I can find blood very easily, so don’t feel pressured to feed me. _If_ you decide to give me your neck, I want you to do it of your own free will. It’s your choice. Everything we do is your choice. Please remember that. Okay?”

She smiled. “Okay.”

Penn toasted her with his coffee cup and she raised her own cup and clinked it with his.

“And that goes for everything outside the bedroom, too. Like telling me about Greg. You don’t have to ever mention his name if you don’t want to. It’s completely up to you.”

“Thanks, but I think I want to talk about him today. I might not have the nerve on another day.” She brought another forkful of egg to her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. A wicked smile bloomed on her lips.

“Besides,” she said, “it’s not like you have to be anywhere this morning, right?”

Penn chuckled and took another sip of coffee. “You are cheeky.”

“You like it when I’m cheeky. You said so last night.”

“So I did.” He nodded. “All right. Whenever you’re ready.”

“First things first. I really should call Trish.”

“Good idea.”

Sara finished the last of the eggs and took one final sip of coffee before bringing her dishes to the sink. After topping off Penn’s coffee cup, she said, “I’ll go into the bedroom and call her. I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Sara gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving the kitchen.

*****

She sat on the edge of the bed and dialed Trish’s number. The phone rang once, twice and she shut her eyes. Her heart was pounding a little harder now. 

Trish answered on the fourth ring. “Well, hello stranger.” 

Was she angry or just being flippant? Sara couldn’t tell from her tone of voice. “Trish. Hi. I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner.” 

“You disappeared on me, hon. I was worried about you. When you left that night I thought things were okay between us, but then I didn’t hear from you and I thought you were pissed at me.”

“I know. I’m so sorry I dropped out, but I’ve been a wreck the past couple of weeks.” She took a deep breath. “I confronted Penn when I got home and we had a fight.”

“You did? Aw, honey.” The concern and caring in Trish’s voice came through the phone loud and clear. It poured over Sara in a soothing wave.

“He admitted lying to me, Trish, and I got so angry. He tried to explain himself, but I didn’t want to hear it. I threw him out.” 

“Good for you, babe.”

“It was awful. I cried myself to sleep. And I know I promised to get back to you, but I was so emotionally wrung out…I just didn’t have the strength to talk about it.” Sara stared at the blank space of wall above her desk, picturing the events of that night. 

By necessity she had to leave some things out of her narrative, but the raw emotion was still there. “I was like a robot. I went to work and I went home and I went to bed. I didn’t have the energy for anything else. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, Trish.”

“My poor, sweet baby. I’m sorry you went through that alone. I really wish you had called me. Maybe I could have helped.” Any anger that had been in her voice was now gone. “But I’m proud of you for standing up to him. That couldn’t have been easy.” Pause. “You said he tried to explain himself. What was his reason for lying?”

Ah. Here she was about to enter some tricky territory. She had to come up with an acceptable alternative to the truth. Damn! She hadn’t prepared anything.

“I didn’t give him a chance to explain,” she said. “And when I had some time to think about it, I felt bad. That’s not me. I thought I ought to hear him out. So I reached out to him and suggested we meet.”

“Oh.” The single flat word conveyed oceans of disappointment. 

“Yeah. We met up last night. I had just finished having dinner with Val, in fact. She says hi, by the way.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. Penn showed up just as we were leaving the restaurant and after Val left we had a good talk, cleared the air.”

“How can you be sure he didn’t lie to you again?”

“Because he was genuinely sorry, Trish. He didn’t laugh at me the way Greg did. He was really upset. He knew he’d hurt me and he felt terrible about it. Maybe you had to be there, but I didn’t pick up any negative vibes from him. I got the feeling that he cares for me a lot.”

“So why did he lie to you in the first place?”

Sara took a deep breath, not sure of what she was going to say and then the words suddenly came to her in a rush. “He doesn’t like his job. It’s not what he wanted to do with his life, but with the economy…well, you know. He’s bored and he’s not using a fraction of his talents. He’s stuck in some back office all day, crunching numbers until he’s almost sick. He likes to sketch and he has real talent, but he’s never had the nerve to do anything serious about it.” 

“I see.” Was she buying it? Sara couldn’t tell from those two words.

“The night of your party, he met Justin and Abby purely by chance on the street. When he found out that Justin was an artist he just got carried away with envy. He pretended to be an artist too. It gave him the confidence to crash the party. Apparently, he’s done that before, pretending to be someone else. He said it was a persona that felt as comfortable as an old leather jacket.” Penn hadn’t actually said that to her, but to Sara it felt like something he might say.

She added, “He kept up the deception when we met because he wanted to impress me and then the whole thing got out of control. He never meant any harm.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a couple of beats. “He said all this to you last night?”

“Yes.”

“And you believed him?”

“Yes, Trish. I believed him.” 

Another brief silence, then, “So, what’s the situation now? Are you together again?”

“We reconciled last night. I made him understand that if we were going to have any kind of relationship, he had to be completely honest with me from now on. No exceptions, and he agreed. So yes, we’re together again.”

Trish sighed. “Well. I can’t say I’m a hundred percent happy with your decision. I think you’re opening yourself up to be hurt again. That’s just my opinion, hon. I’ve got to call it like I see it.”

“He’s not a bad guy, Trish. He was playing a role and it blew up in his face. All he wanted was to add some excitement to his boring little life. He never thought things with me would get serious and then suddenly we were a couple and he started caring about me. He didn’t know how to take back the lie.”

“Uh huh. Okay, then. If you’re happy with him and he treats you well, then I wish you two all the best. But I’m never going to be the president of his fan club, just so you know. From this moment on, if he does _anything_ to hurt you, I will do what I can to make his life hell.”

“I know, Trish. And believe me, so does he. He wants to make me happy. He said so last night.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. One thing…you might want to suggest a career change. If he’s that miserable at his job, maybe it’s time he did something different. Life’s too short, you know?”

“Yes, it is.”

They chatted for a few more minutes and Trish suggested another girls’ night sometime in the next couple of weeks. Sara eagerly agreed and Trish said she would call back later in the week to confirm things. That done, they made their goodbyes. 

Sara ended the call with a light feeling in her chest that she hadn’t had in a couple of weeks. She looked down at herself and chuckled as she realized that she was still in her bathrobe. Quickly she changed into a T-shirt and jeans and then headed back out to rejoin Penn.

Penn was reading a newspaper from earlier in the week. He glanced up as she entered the room. “You’re smiling. I take it things went well?”

“Oh yeah. We had a great talk. You were right. She didn’t hate me.”

“I knew she wouldn’t.”

“But she doesn’t like _you_ very much. She wants you to know that you’d better be good to me or else you’ll have to answer to her.”

Penn chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Briefly Sara summarized their conversation. Penn raised an eyebrow when she mentioned her description of his imaginary job. “You reinvented me as Walter Mitty,” he said.

“I figured that having a boring job would be a good reason for your need to pretend to be an artist,” she said.

He nodded. “Sounds like you covered that very well. It’s exactly what I would have said. Well done.”

“Thanks.” She grinned at him. “I can’t describe to you how happy I am right now. In just twenty-four hours the two most important people in my world have come back into my life. I was miserable without you guys. I don’t want to lose either of you again.”

“You won’t lose me, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”

She came up to him and kissed him on the forehead. “That means the world to me.” 

Straightening up, she smiled down at him. “Now, I believe I promised you a story. Shall we retire to the living room?”

Penn pushed his chair back and stood up. “After you, my dear.”


End file.
